


fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet)

by fonulyn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: ? - Freeform, A lot of pain and hurt, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, But also, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dealing with grief and loss, Descriptions of pain and injury, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Healing, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I promise it had a TON of fluff in it too, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Pining, Romance, SO, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited feelings turned requited, but also a lot of fluff and sweetness, despite all the angst, it's supposed to be a hopeful fic overall, namely Piers's mom, of actually the literal dying kind, syrupy fluff, there's plenty of fluff to help with the pain :'D, you know how it is if you know the plot of re6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face.“Leon, I…” Chris started, suddenly forgetting every single word he’d prepared. “Piers. He…” he trailed off, and risked a glance at Leon, who was standing there like a statue. It was like he wasn’t even breathing, with the way he was staring at Chris. “He saved my life. He saved Sherry. And he saved Jake. Hell, he probably saved the whole world, but he—”“Don’t.”-Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Piers Nivans
Comments: 30
Kudos: 104





	fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet)

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo first of all, I needed RE6 and Vendetta to happen more closely together, so I messed with the actual timeline and pushed RE6 forward a couple of years. Wherein it originally takes place mainly in 2013, now it is 2015. My story, my rules, lmao. But it was the easiest way to make the timeline sensible :3 So assume just that everyone’s two years older and all that jazz.
> 
> Ah so. What to say. This fic is something I’ve been working on for a long while now and I am immensely proud that I actually got it done, and that it shaped up like I wanted it to. I don’t write angst a lot, I’m more a fluff kind of person, but this story _demanded_ to be written, it didn’t leave me alone, and so I gave it my all. I hope that all the emotions and the details I poured into it actually managed to breathe life into it, too. 
> 
> Thank you to Tatsu for the support and to Theo for the enthusiasm! Ilu both 💖
> 
> But I will shut up now. I hope that you’ll enjoy this rollercoaster of emotions :’)

## 3.7. 2015

When Leon blinked his eyes open in the morning he felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Knowing that they’d dealt with the outbreak and especially dealt with Simmons made it worth it, but he still ached all over as he heaved himself out of bed. One glance at the time told him it was almost noon, but he didn’t have anywhere to be so he didn’t mind, instead heading into the shower. No amount of hot water seemed to ever get rid of the smell of the infected for _weeks_.

Still, the shower helped, and afterwards Leon set out for a normal, lazy day. There were barely any groceries but he didn’t want to go shopping, not when he didn’t know when Piers would be back home. The last he’d heard of him was when he’d sent him and Chris to save Sherry in the underwater facility. Sherry had contacted him later, letting him know she and Jake got out of there, and that the last she’d seen Piers and Chris they had been fighting against a BOW as tall as a building.

That made worry twist in the pit of Leon’s stomach, but he tried to push it back. It wasn’t the first time either of them was forced to deal with bioweapons that should only exist in someone’s vivid nightmares. Besides he knew Piers was good, knew he was a professional, and worked well together with Chris. They were probably stuck with going through their medical check up after the mission. Or maybe they were stuck reporting it, BSAA did have a fair amount of bureaucracy. 

Whatever it was, Leon was going to stay home and wait. It’d been way too long since they’d gotten some time just for themselves, and the thought of falling asleep on the couch together sounded pretty much like heaven. 

A little restless, Leon set out to write a grocery list. If Piers felt like it, they could go do a supply run together, and if not then at least the list would be ready for when they were forced to get something else than takeout. Leon even loaded the coffee maker ready, knowing Piers sometimes liked having a dose of caffeine after a mission as it somehow seemed to unwind him. 

Then, finally, the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment, and Leon didn’t think much of it as he headed to the door to swing it open. “Did you lose your keys _again_? I swear, we need—” The words died on his lips as he realized it wasn’t Piers who had rung the doorbell. His smile fell, making way to a confused frown, and he let his arms fall limp to his sides.

It was Chris. 

In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. 

His emotions must’ve been visible on his face, as Chris sighed, taking half a step forward as if he was preparing for this to be a fight. “C’mon Leon,” he said, and he sounded so tired, so broken, that Leon didn’t have the heart to send him away. So he opened the door a little wider, wordlessly inviting his friend inside. 

They stopped awkwardly in the middle of the living room. Leon didn’t sit down, nor did he invite Chris to sit. 

The further the silence stretched, the more uncomfortable Chris was getting. He took off his cap and twisted it in his hands, still looking down at their feet rather than straight at Leon. He’d planned what he’d say beforehand. He’d sat awake the entire night, trying to figure out the gentlest, nicest way to break the news. Yet there was no way to say such things without dropping them like a nuclear bomb. 

At first Chris had thought that the worst part would be telling Piers’ parents. After hearing the news, Mr Nivans had been stoic and understanding, kind in his words despite the hollowness in his eyes. Mrs Nivans had thanked Chris, had even hugged him, and that had hurt worse than anything Chris could’ve prepared for. He’d been asked to stay for tea, but he’d excused himself, and they had understood. 

They had known what his next stop would be.

“Leon, I…” Chris started, suddenly forgetting every single word he’d prepared. “Piers. He…” he trailed off, and risked a glance at Leon, who was standing there like a statue. It was like he wasn’t even breathing, with the way he was staring at Chris. “He saved my life. He saved Sherry. And he saved Jake. Hell, he probably saved the whole world, but he—”

“ _Don’t_.”

Although Leon knew, without a doubt, what was coming next, he simply _couldn’t hear it_. If the words were formed out loud there was no taking them back, no denying them, and he wasn’t ready for that. He would never be ready for that. 

Chris tried to smile, but it was watery and weak, a pale imitation of one. “Leon, I need to. Piers—”

“I said _don’t_!” Leon burst out, his voice oddly loud in the otherwise dead silent room. He lashed out, grabbed Chris’ shirt in the middle of his chest, and somehow managed to slam the larger man against the wall. Chris didn’t make a single move, didn’t resist, and allowed Leon to pin him down, as much with the rage in his eyes as with his hands. When Leon spoke again his voice was low, choked and barely audible. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ say it.”

And Chris had never felt this kind of devastation in his life. Not even when he’d realized what Piers had done, not even when he’d been forced to leave him behind. Somehow this solidified it. This made it _final_. “I’m sorry, Leon,” he whispered, voice rough with unshed tears.

“ _No_ ,” was the only reply Leon could give. The rage died in his eyes, along with every other emotion, until it felt like he was a shell barely held together. 

Chris felt like all he’d need to do was breathe a little too harshly, and it would make Leon crumble. Gently he brought a hand up to Leon’s shoulder. Under any other circumstances he would’ve hugged him, but there was nothing ordinary about this and he wasn’t sure if it would be welcomed. So he kept his hand on Leon’s shoulder, brushed his thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “He thought of you at the end,” he said as gently as he could. “Said you should… plant some garden?”

The words startled a choked laugh out of Leon, a faint smile ghosting over his features. He nodded slowly, unable to say anything through the lump in his throat. Quickly he blinked, fighting back the tears, but it was a losing battle right from the start. 

“He wanted you to know he loved you,” Chris added silently. He was prepared for it when Leon practically fell forward, and in an instant he had his arms around his friend. Leon said nothing but every breath he took was shaky, his shoulders trembling under Chris’ arms, and instead of holding Chris against the wall he was now holding on to him like his life depended on it. “I’m so sorry. So sorry,” Chris kept repeating, his voice soothing and gentle.

Leon heard none of it. There was a black hole inside of his chest, vast emptiness that froze every part of him to absolute zero. 

He didn’t even realize he was crying.

> ## 1.7.2015
> 
> Water had always been one of Piers’ favorite elements. He loved the ocean, the inviting waves and the sound of them breaking against the shore. The scent alone always, _always_ made him close his eyes and just inhale until someone shook him out of it. Usually it was Leon, poking him in the ribs and telling him he looked dumb, before grabbing his hand to pull him along. Piers loved the feeling of sand beneath his feet, between his toes, and how he could inch towards the waves to let it wash off. He loved seeing the sun glint off the surface of the water, like a thousand little diamonds.
> 
> Yet when he was coughing water from his lungs, hoping against all odds that they had managed to destroy that gigantic monster already, he was beginning to hate everything about water. 
> 
> “You alright?” Chris asked, clear concern in his voice, along with something like relief.
> 
> And Piers pushed back the exhaustion, ignored the burning in his lungs. He didn’t say how all he wanted to do was get out of there and never see a single droplet of water ever again. “Been better,” he offered with a faint hint of a grin, unable to even summon anything more concrete. The only thing that kept him upright at that point was the thought of walking out of the facility and getting back home.
> 
> He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
> 
> The monster was back, forcing them to run along the crumbling corridors, air burning in their lungs and their muscles straining with each and every step they took. It was more panic than a collected retreat, and every time they made it through another doorway Piers was praying that it would be the last one, that the B.O.W. would be trapped on the other side.
> 
> There was water everywhere, soaking into his clothes and getting into his boots, and when they slid through the gap in the door into yet another room Piers could feel all of the hope dwindle and die in his chest. They were trapped in there. His first instinct was to scan the room for a door, for any way to get out of there, but the monster behind them had already pushed its way into the room and it was launching itself straight towards Chris and Piers forgot everything else. 
> 
> “Captain!” Piers yelled, throwing himself bodily at the other man, pushing him out of harm’s way. 
> 
> Only the next thing he registered was the burning pain in his shoulder, his feet no longer touching the ground as he was pulled upwards. His arm twisted, the pain increasing tenfold as his shoulder popped out of its socket and he was swung around like a ragdoll in the air. All he could do was scream, throat sore and voice breaking. 
> 
> Distantly Piers registered the sound of a gun firing, but he couldn’t focus on any of that through the blinding agony, the way it felt like his whole shoulder and arm were on fire. Then he was flying, weightless in the air, before slamming hard against the wall. The impact forced all air from his lungs but somehow he still managed to scream when something pierced through his upper arm, pinning him in place.
> 
> Piers was good at working under pressure. He was quick on his feet and always the first one to come up with a new plan when something failed. But now he barely had the time to realize a large piece of rubble was hurtling towards him before his entire arm was shattered, crushed between the wall and the fallen structure. 
> 
> Somehow the pain got even worse. Piers had no idea how that was possible. He’d never hurt this much in his life, his entire world narrowed down into the agony.
> 
> For a second he thought he’d die right there. On that spot.
> 
> Then he heard Chris yell, raised his gaze and saw the gigantic monster had grabbed Chris in its palm and was squeezing the life out of him. And somewhere deep down Piers found the strength he needed to spur him into action. He yanked himself off the rubble he’d been impaled on, the sickly sound of muscle and tendons ripping almost making him retch. His arm was ruined beyond recognition, hanging limply and uselessly by his side. But at least he was free, he could move, and in near panic he scanned the room. 
> 
> Until his eyes landed on the vial. The C-virus.
> 
> Collecting all of his strength Piers dragged himself towards it, inch by inch, his fingers slipping on the floor and the water soaking through everything. Or was it blood, he had no idea. He had no mind for anything else but the vial, needing to get there. 
> 
> Once his fingers closed around the sample he froze for a second. If he’d inject himself with this, that would be his end. He’d become one of the things he’d sworn to fight against, sworn to give his life to destroy. He’d lose his life if he’d inject himself with it. And even worse, he’d lose his _self_. He’d turn into a monster, and if he couldn’t kill himself then Chris would have to put a bullet in his brain to stop him from becoming a threat.
> 
> He’d never get out of here.
> 
> He’d never see Leon again. 
> 
> Then Chris was screaming in pain and Piers acted, without another thought. He stuck the needle into the bleeding mass of ground meat that used to be his arm. 
> 
> And if he’d thought the pain had been bad earlier, he was now proven wrong. It was like electricity was coursing through him, his body convulsing with it, the shocks reaching into every single molecule of his being. Before his eyes his arm was mutating, growing into a gross shape, but he couldn’t even watch it as his head felt like it was splitting in half, his vision blurry with the tears it forced from his eyes. 
> 
> With great effort Piers managed to haul himself up onto his feet. The electricity was simmering inside of him, crackling under his skin, and instinctively he knew how to channel it. Maybe he could help save the world, still. If he could just keep his consciousness for long enough he could destroy HAOS, save the world from an even bigger disaster.
> 
> Maybe he could still save the people he loved.
> 
> Even if he’d doomed himself in the process. 

## 12.7.2015

Claire had predicted this would happen. No one had believed her, not at first, when she’d solemnly said that Leon wouldn’t come to the funeral service that was arranged in Piers’ honor. She’d known Leon the longest out of them all, so they probably should’ve trusted her judgment. Yet Sherry had just waved it aside, saying that of course he’d show up, there was no other option. And that had been that.

Until the morning had come. It had rained during the night and dew was still shining on the ground, the rays of the rising sun hitting the droplets of water just right. The official ceremony was to start at noon, but it had been agreed upon that the small group of people who had been closest to Piers would get together already at nine.

Even at ten thirty, Leon wasn’t there.

At first they just waited, hoping he was late. Yet with each passing minute it was becoming more and more obvious that it wouldn’t happen. Finally Mrs Nivans approached Chris almost timidly, placed a hand onto his forearm and tried to smile up at him, even with her eyes already puffy and red from all the crying. “Would you make him change his mind? Please.”

What else could Chris do but agree? He wasn’t sure if he could do anything, really. Claire had already tried calling more than once, but all of her calls had gone straight into voicemail, ignored. So Chris didn’t even try to call. 

No one came to the door when Chris rang the bell, so he used the spare key to let himself inside. “Leon?” he called, silently at first, then louder, but the only answer he got was his own voice echoing from the walls in the eerily silent apartment. Only when he stopped in the doorway to the living room he found Leon.

Leon was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling without blinking. It was obvious from the first glance that he hadn’t showered in days, and knowing Leon he probably hadn’t been eating or sleeping properly, either. Immediately Chris felt a pang of guilt as he hadn’t been there to support his friend through this. Yet his own grief had been too crushing to even think of anyone else. There were still holes in his memory, too, even if he had regained most of it, and that made everything all the more confusing and difficult to deal with.

“C’mon, Leon,” Chris tried as gently as he could, resisting the urge to raise his voice. A part of him wanted to react with anger, wanted to yell and to curse and to order Leon to get a fucking grip. But he knew better. “You have twenty minutes to shower and get dressed, I’m taking you straight to the cemetery.”

First Chris thought Leon hadn’t even heard him, but then he answered, voice rough from the lack of use. “I’m not going.”

Anger sparked in Chris and he squeezed his hands into fists, took a deep breath before saying anything he might later regret. “You must be joking. Of course you’re coming. You if anyone needs to be there.”

Leon laughed, an ugly sound that had nothing happy in it, that sounded twisted and hurt, a bastardized version of his usual laughter. “We don’t even have a fucking body to bury, Chris,” he burst out, almost angrily, “I’m not coming out there and staring mournfully at an empty casket!”

“It doesn’t matter if the casket is empty,” Chris started slowly. His own feelings were bleeding into his voice, and he let them, allowed himself to sound as small and sad as he felt. “It’s not about that. It’s about honoring his memory. It’s about… being there for other people who loved him, too.”

“ _No_ ,” Leon spat out. He sat upright, and for the first time since Chris had brought him the news his eyes weren’t empty and hollow. They were sparkling with anger. “You can’t fucking _make_ me. Jesus Chris, _look at me_!” He gestured vaguely at himself. “I can’t even hold myself together, how the fuck am I supposed to be there for anyone else!?”

“It’s enough that you’re there,” Chris insisted. “There’s strength in that. And no one is asking for you to give a eulogy, just to be there.”

“No.”

“ _Please_ , Leon,” Chris tried, one last time. He understood where his friend was coming from. He knew how hard it was to bring yourself to accept what had happened. When he’d lost his parents he had wanted to deny everything too, he’d wanted to pretend like the funeral didn’t even exist and had wanted to live in ignorance forever. And it wasn’t much easier now. Next to Leon and Jill, Piers had been the closest friend he’d had. It took all of him to pretend to be strong. And suddenly he caved. “I can’t do this without you. _I_ need you there.”

Silently Leon stared at Chris from red-rimmed eyes. It took so long, that Chris already gave in, ready to admit failure. Then Leon stood up, giving the faintest of nods. “Alright. Can you… get my suit? I’ll shower.”

An immense wave of relief washed through Chris and he nodded, not trusting his voice. Maybe they’d get through today, after all. 

Less than an hour later, Chris stopped his car in the parking lot next to the cemetery. Everyone else was already there, gathered into an awkward little group as they waited. 

They’d barely stepped out of the car when Leon spotted Piers’ parents, his face twisting through guilt and shame to something that could only be devastation. “I’m sor—” he started, voice choked and barely audible, but that was as far as he got before Mrs Nivans practically collapsed against his chest, sobs shaking her petite frame. She seemed so fragile, so broken, that Leon couldn’t do anything but hold her close and hope it provided at least a modicum of comfort.

Mr Nivans stopped right next to them and clapped Leon’s shoulder, nodding at him grimly. The darkness in his eyes was something Leon understood without words. He’d been so caught up in his own grief, he hadn’t even stopped to think about anyone else. And that added a layer of shame onto his already heavy heart.

When they finally lowered the casket down into the ground Leon couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t nearly as empty as he’d first thought. It was filled with so many broken hopes and dreams, plans that would never be, and enough love to last for a lifetime. 

Suddenly he couldn’t even look at it anymore and he squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that spilled over his cheeks. The wind was picking up, drying them on his face, but he barely noticed. He would’ve given anything if he could’ve traded places with Piers. If he could’ve given his own life in exchange he would’ve, in a heartbeat. He knew it was irrational, knew it was stupid and childish and downright idiotic but he couldn’t stop wishing it.

People were singing, the notes of the hymn clear and sharp in the summer air. Leon didn’t sing. He could barely breathe through the lump in his throat that was choking him, squeezing the life out of him from the inside. 

Then there was an arm around his shoulders, the solid and comforting warmth of Chris right there next to him. 

Slowly, Leon took a deep breath.

> ## 24.12.2013
> 
> “I still can’t believe I agreed to this,” Leon groaned, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes. They were still sitting in the car in the driveway of Piers’ parents, and Leon sort of wanted to just kick Piers out of the car and jump into the driver’s seat so he could make an escape. Of course he never really would, but it was a tempting thought. 
> 
> Sure he had met both of Piers’ parents before, even his grandparents once when they had flown in for a visit. But it was a different thing to meet them for lunch or something and to spend the entire Christmas with them. They’d agreed to stay overnight, maybe even for two nights, and Leon felt like he was vibrating out of his skin with pure nervousness. 
> 
> Piers shifted in his seat, arching an eyebrow at Leon. “Seriously? You’ve faced down hordes of zombies, and what, tried to kill a tyrant with a knife? And you can’t handle small talk with my parents for a couple of days?” He was grinning, obviously torn between amusement and fondness.
> 
> “Your dad hates me,” Leon huffed petulantly, although he knew already as he said it that it was of no use. Besides he had promised. And he would stick to that.
> 
> “He doesn’t _hate_ you,” Piers argued, but didn’t get any further before Leon cut him off. 
> 
> “Yes he does. He thinks I’m a cradle robber or something. He keeps making snide remarks about how old I am, as if I’d be twice your age or something.” That much at least was true. When he’d met Piers’ father for the first time the man had looked at him for a while, and the first thing he’d said after greetings had been ‘ _It’s hard to believe you’re thirty-six_.’ And it had _not_ sounded like a compliment.
> 
> Piers gave a small eyeroll. “Yeah, maybe,” he said, but then turned to face Leon better, even reached out to place a warm palm in the nape of Leon’s neck. “But seriously, he’s going to have to live with it. It’s my life, not his. He’s just one of those fathers who don’t think _anyone_ is good enough.”
> 
> The gesture already eased Leon’s nervousness, the familiarity of it, and the way Piers kept rubbing small circles onto the side of his neck with his thumb. And rationally he knew that Mr Nivans had been warming up to him already, even made real attempts at conversation to get to know him better. A few more years down the road and they’d probably be even friends on some level. At least Leon was really, really hoping that would happen. 
> 
> Therein was the biggest problem. Leon wanted _so badly_ that this would work out between them, and so he wanted to get along with Piers’ family too. It was important that they liked him. And he didn’t want to screw it up. 
> 
> After a pause Piers offered a soft smile, tilting his head to meet Leon’s eyes better. “He doesn’t really hate you, but even if he did? It wouldn’t change anything. I don’t want anyone else but you.” 
> 
> The way he said it, all earnest and open, made Leon just stare at him in awe. Even during these almost two years they’d been together he hadn’t quite gotten used to the easy way the younger man said such things out loud. And every single time he did it, Leon fell a little bit more in love. “You’re so cheesy,” he grinned, tilting his head to lean into the touch. “Why do you keep saying things like that.”
> 
> “Because it’s the truth,” Piers answered easily. He leaned in, until his lips were so close to Leon’s they were brushing lightly. “It’s as simple as that.” The kiss that followed was slow, maybe a little awkward as Piers was still sitting in the driver’s seat and had to lean all the way to the passenger’s side. But it was more than enough to coax a smile out of Leon. 
> 
> When they pulled apart, Piers was smiling brightly. “Besides, you don’t get to complain. My mom _loves_ you.”
> 
> Leon barked out a laugh. “You’re right,” he admitted, “she does. I’m totally her favorite.”
> 
> For a second they just sat there, grinning at each other, but then Leon unbuckled his seatbelt with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. We’re going in now. I bet your mom’s looking at us through the window and laughing at all this ridiculousness.” He pushed the door open, before circling the car to the trunk so he could grab their bags and the presents they had brought. 
> 
> Piers was chuckling as he came to help. “Yeah I think I saw the curtains move. You’re going to have to explain this to her if she asks.”
> 
> “Sure,” Leon groaned, “throw me under the bus like that. What a _gentleman_.”
> 
> In the end, the awkwardness maybe lasted for the first fifteen minutes. After that, it was possibly the nicest Christmas Leon had ever had. 

## 15.10.2015

“This needs to stop, right now.”

Claire stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips and looking around with a frown. There were some clothes strewn haphazardly over the furniture, layers of dust on every surface, and the curtains had probably been drawn shut for the past two months, at least. There were some empty takeout cartons, but honestly she would’ve been happier if there’d been more of them as it seemed like Leon was eating whenever he happened to think about it and it apparently wasn’t often. 

“Honestly, Claire,” Leon looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, hunched over and head resting on his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing a little, but didn’t have the energy to do anything about it so instead he slumped back down. “I don’t care. If the mess bothers you, you’re welcome to leave.”

“I’d rather you let me clean it up,” she answered with a sigh. With a couple of quick steps she was next to him and sat down, patting his knee a little. “How about I bring Chris and Sherry over, maybe Jake too? And Jill would be happy to help. So would Rebecca. We could clean this up in no time, and maybe go out to eat with the whole bunch? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Leon gave her a tired look. He didn’t even have the energy to do much else but scowl. “I don’t feel like it.” What the hell was the point, anyway? The mere thought of having so many people around him was already making his hands shake, his palms clammy and breathing difficult. “I’m not hungry.”

“Fuck, _Leon_ ,” Claire snapped. “You’ve got to at least… I don’t know, get outside? Eat an actual meal? When was the last time you ate an actual warm dinner instead of three days old takeout?”

“Just let me be, okay.” Exhausted, Leon squeezed his eyes shut tight, so tight there were shapes of light dancing on his eyelids. Maybe if he’d ignore her for long enough she would go away, let him sit here and dwell in his memories like he wanted to. He didn’t even have any photographs anymore. The day after the funeral he’d thrown them all away, piled them into a big black garbage bag and thrown them to the sidewalk. 

Not that he needed the pictures. Every second of every day he saw Piers in his mind. He didn’t even need to close his eyes to remember the bright smile, the curve of his nose, the affectionate sparkle in those eyes whenever they were directed at him. Looking at pictures of Piers, pictures where he was happy and lively and _alive_ , made Leon feel like someone had taken a hold of his lungs and was squeezing them so hard they were about to pulverize any second. 

Claire sighed. She squeezed his knee a little, bumping his shoulder with her own. “It’s been over three months, Leon.”

“Three months!?” Leon barked out a hollow laugh. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?”

“I’m just worried about you. It’s been so long, normally—”

“ _Normally_!?” Leon practically shrieked, jumping up as white hot rage filled him. It felt strangely good, to feel something, anything else than the vast emptiness and the all-encompassing sorrow. “Good to _fucking know_ that there’s a _time limit_ to how long I’m _allowed_ to mourn!”

Claire stood up, too, shocked, gingerly reaching for him. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean _what_!?” he sidestepped, avoided her touch and walked backwards, away away away. He almost tripped over the coffee table, only able to catch himself in the nick of time. “Then tell me. _Tell me_. How long am I _allowed_ to feel like _I_ was the one buried six feet into the ground?”

Claire opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. She looked devastated, like she was about to break into tears any second now. She was one of Leon’s best friends, but right now he didn’t have the mental capacity to even care. 

He swallowed down his own tears, held his breath for a moment to make his voice work. There were angry words on the tip of his tongue, ones harsh enough to cut, but he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them. Instead he released all air from his lungs and whispered, barely audibly “I loved him, Claire. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I don’t know how to stop.”

Without waiting for an answer he turned around and practically fled into the bedroom, falling face first into the mattress as he didn’t have any strength left to hold himself together anymore. He hadn’t been able to sleep in his bed – in _their_ bed – ever since he’d gotten the news. Every time he tried, the memories were intense enough to suffocate, and he’d long ago given up even trying. Whatever fitful sleep he got, he got on the couch. 

Yet now he didn’t feel like moving an inch so he buried his face into the pillow, hoping against all odds that he might pass out if he just wished it hard enough.

> ## 9.2.2012
> 
> In all honesty, Leon wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been invited to tag along to what seemed to be mostly BSAA members celebrating a birthday of one of their own. Sure Chris was there, and maybe he had just wanted Leon to tag along to have someone his own age there, someone who wasn’t working for him but was on equal ground. That’s at least what Leon assumed he was, Chris’ support person, so that the man wouldn’t be all too bored.
> 
> Still, even though Leon barely knew anyone, Chris knew _everyone_ , and most of the time Leon found himself standing at the bar alone, leaning back against the counter with a drink in his hand as his friend had been dragged off somewhere. Not that he minded. It was actually kind of nice for once, to watch the crowd without any expectations, to only _exist_ there in peace without needing to be on the job or on alert. 
> 
> Then suddenly his peace was interrupted as someone stumbled right next to him, and Leon turned his head quick enough to see how a few young BSAA soldiers were snickering and throwing random thumbs-ups before they vanished into the crowd. That only left one of them, the one who’d been literally pushed next to him and was still stumbling, and Leon instinctively reached out a hand to steady him. “So what is it?” he asked with a grin. “You lost a bet and now owe everyone drinks?”
> 
> “No,” Piers Nivans, the actual birthday boy they were celebrating, answered with a kind of an embarrassed grin, “they just think I’m being a coward and decided I needed a push.”
> 
> That now took Leon by surprise and he was sure it showed, as he stared at the other man. They had met more than once before, but always briefly, always in passing. Piers worked closely with Chris and Leon had heard the stories, knew how highly Chris thought of him and how good he allegedly was. But none of that explained what was going on now, and all Leon managed was an intelligent “What?”
> 
> Piers rubbed the back of his head, the embarrassment still clear in his body language, and it was obvious this wasn’t how he had wanted the moment to go. Yet somehow he managed to grin, even a little cockily, as he shifted half a step closer to Leon. “I could buy _you_ a drink,” he suggested. 
> 
> And then it finally dawned on Leon what was going on. First and foremost he was flattered. Piers was definitely attractive, not only physically so but also witty and sharp, that much Leon could tell already based on their limited interactions from before. And Leon was tempted, too. More than a little. But he hadn’t come here to have a fling. “Why don’t you go play with kids your own age,” he huffed, but didn’t even try to hold back the amusement dancing in his voice.
> 
> The first answer from Piers was a disbelieving laugh, so at least he wasn’t offended. Yet it seemed that he wasn’t discouraged either, not by a long shot, as he just tilted his head a little and grinned at Leon. “I don’t know, sometimes I like to do charity work and take geriatrics out for a spin on the dance floor.” 
> 
> His smile was infectious and Leon found himself returning it. “That is very generous of you,” he replied, emptying the rest of his drink before setting the glass down onto the counter. “Is that before or after you’ll buy me that drink you promised?”
> 
> “Before,” Piers replied, clearly excited that he was getting what he came for. He’d probably expected to be turned down and sent away, and truth to be told that had been Leon’s first intention. Somehow he had failed, and well, he couldn’t feel too bad about it when Piers grabbed his hand and pulled him along. 
> 
> Despite not being much of a dancer, Leon did enjoy himself. He was almost disappointed when Piers got swarmed by some of his friends and got dragged away, laughing. 
> 
> When Leon returned to his original spot at the bar, Chris was standing there waiting for him. He was handed a beer, and he took it with a grateful little nod before downing like half of it in one go for how thirsty he was. Even then he was distractedly glancing towards where it seemed that Piers was being goaded into some kind of a drinking game by his friends. 
> 
> “You seem to really like him.” Chris’ voice pulled Leon back from his thoughts and he turned to look at him. 
> 
> Leon gave a small shrug, but he saw no reason to deny that. “Yeah, I do.” And it had been more than clear that the feeling was mutual, so Leon couldn’t stop himself from being a little intrigued, a little hopeful, a little excited. Then he shook himself back to reality, leaning against the counter next to Chris. “I don’t want to cause any drama though. I mean, you work with him and it might be awkward—”
> 
> “Leon, it’s fine,” Chris interrupted him, even reached out to pat his shoulder a little. “I’m not going to stop you.” He met Leon’s eyes honestly, even offered a smile. “Go for it.”
> 
> “Seriously?” Leon asked, surprising even himself with the amount of excitement in the question. Grinning, he turned a little, easily finding Piers in the crowd. “I just might. He did promise me a drink.”
> 
> In his excitement Leon completely missed the wistful look Chris gave him. 

## 9.2.2016

Never before in his life had Leon been so relieved when he got sent out to deal with whatever zombie outbreak or megalomaniac world conqueror was threatening the world this time. Being on a job gave him the chance to switch his brain into survival mode, ignore everything around himself that wasn’t directly related to getting the job done. For a while, he felt like he was a functional human being, instead of a hollow container for misery.

The downside was that eventually he had to come back home. Eventually he had to stare at the walls that felt like they were closing in on him. Every room, every _goddamn item_ in the apartment held memories he would’ve rather bleached from his mind. 

It had been seven months, and he still could barely sleep through a night.

And then Piers’ birthday came, bringing with it the worst day Leon had faced ever since the funeral. 

He’d been sitting there staring at the unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker for most of the morning, the blue label like mocking him for being so pathetic. They’d gotten it as a present, and knowing how expensive it was they had saved it for a special occasion. Piers had said that they should take bets from their friends on what special occasion they thought it was for, and then surprise them by opening it on a random Tuesday.

Well it was a Tuesday now.

Leon reached for the bottle and cranked it open, discarding the cap blindly to the side, only narrowly avoiding the two empty glasses he had set on the table. He tipped the bottle and poured whiskey into both of the glasses, watching them fill with the amber liquid. There was something almost hypnotic about it, and for at least a few seconds his mind was blissfully empty of any and all thoughts. 

Then he set the bottle to the side and grabbed one of the glasses. “Happy birthday,” he told the second glass of whiskey, clinking the one in his hand against it lightly. Then he downed the whiskey in one go, all but slamming the empty glass back down onto the table. The alcohol burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the way Leon’s eyes were burning with the unshed tears. 

“Jesus Christ,” Leon muttered as he grabbed the bottle again to refill his glass. “You would’ve hated this,” he went on with a hollow chuckle, knocking back the second glassful as quickly as the first one. “You would’ve called this donkey piss and mocked me for liking it,” he went on out loud as he refilled the glass.

He could see it in his mind, clear as day, how Piers would’ve grimaced at the taste. He would’ve told Leon to keep the rest, and gone off to find something else to have instead. Some hideous cheap white wine, probably, the ones you bought in bulk and tasted like crap. 

Suddenly the lump in Leon’s throat grew exponentially bigger and he had to set down the glass, unable to take even a sip. The bottle and the glasses on the table were blurry as he stared at them, trying so hard to get a hold of himself. 

He failed. 

Folding his arms against the tabletop Leon buried his face into them, helpless but to let the sobs wreck through him hard enough to make his shoulders shake. He hadn’t thought he had tears left to shed anymore, but apparently he’d been wrong. 

The harsh blare of his phone cut through the silence of the room, and with an angry huff he swiped at it. The phone flew off the table and clattered onto the floor, but he paid it no mind. He wasn’t going to answer it anyway. Just like he hadn’t answered any of the calls he’d gotten, the first attempt being Claire’s call at the crack of dawn. Not that Leon had been sleeping. 

The lump in his throat had eased enough that he could down the third shot of whiskey for the morning. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, with one last glance at the second glass that was still sitting on the table untouched. “If I hadn’t… I shouldn’t have… I should’ve asked someone else to save them.” He pinched his mouth into a grim line, and when he went on it was in a barely audible whisper. “I sent you there to die.”

Suddenly the doorbell rang through the apartment, startling Leon. He grabbed the still half full bottle of whiskey from the table, his legs a little shaky as he heaved himself up from the chair. Instead of answering the door he ignored it, like he ignored everything else today, and headed deeper into the apartment.

The only way he’d get through the day was if he’d pass the hell out. And that was what he fully intended to do.

> ## 7.3.2013
> 
> Leon stood in the middle of the living room, taking in the piles of boxes around himself. There was no space to even sit down on the couch, with the boxes that were piled on it, and for a second he regretted ever agreeing to the move as it seemed like such a gargantuan task to unpack all of this. Then there was a warm body pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, and he relaxed into the embrace. 
> 
> “What are you thinking?” Piers asked as he rested his chin on Leon’s shoulder. 
> 
> “That we’ll both turn seventy before we’ve got all of this sorted out,” Leon answered truthfully, shaking his head a little. He hadn’t thought he owned so much stuff, and Piers definitely didn’t tend to hoard random possessions either. Somehow things had accumulated anyway, apparently. Or maybe the fact that everything was piled into the living room at the moment made the task seem all the more daunting. 
> 
> Piers laughed, giving a small headshake. “That’s why we invited people over, you know. To help us sort through that all. All we have to do is buy them pizza.”
> 
> “You are a devious, devious man,” Leon answered, not even trying to make it sound less like a compliment. He craned his neck enough to steal a quick, chaste kiss, but then detached himself from the hug with a sigh. “Should we unpack at least one of them? Do you have any idea which boxes go into the kitchen?” They probably hadn’t been very clever when they’d packed everything into the exact same brown boxes, not even labeling things properly. But they’d gotten distracted enough during the packing process, even if they’d tried to label them they probably would’ve gotten it wrong. 
> 
> “No,” Piers admitted, taking a peek into the closest of the boxes. It had bedsheets in it, so he grabbed it, deciding that there was no time like the present to at least try to be useful. “I’m going to drop this off into our bedroom.” He stopped next to Leon, grinning at him so brightly it would’ve put the sun itself into shame. “Doesn’t that sound great? _Our_ bedroom.” He didn’t wait for an answer though, but vanished through the doorway. 
> 
> It left Leon alone into the living room, smiling to himself. He couldn’t deny though that this was kind of terrifying. He’d never been in a relationship serious enough that moving in together would’ve even come up. Hell, the only serious dating experience before this was from when he was still in the academy, as after the whole Raccoon City fiasco he hadn’t exactly had time nor the chances for it. 
> 
> So as much as he tried to focus on the happiness, on the excitement that they were actually taking this step together, he couldn’t help but run through all the possible what-if scenarios in his mind. There were so many ways things could go wrong. He could still fuck this up, ruin the whole relationship, ruin _everything_. And it would be so much worse when neither of them had the safety-net of their own apartment. 
> 
> Leon inhaled deeply, his eyes slipping shut as he tried to calm himself down. There was no reason to be this freaked out by this. They had talked about this. It had been a mutual decision. And if Piers wasn’t worried at all that things might go wrong then why would he—
> 
> “You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”
> 
> Quickly Leon looked up. Piers was standing in the doorway, looking straight at him with a soft smile. Somehow that was equal parts reassuring and nerve-wrecking, and Leon offered a kind of a shaky smile in turn. “Yeah, a little.” He hesitated, ran his fingers through his hair as he glanced around in the room, but then he pushed on and admitted the truth. “I’ve never done this. It’s so…”
> 
> “Exciting?” Piers offered as the silence had stretched on for a moment. “Damn _fantastic_?” He was smiling more widely as he slowly approached the other man, and as soon as he reached Leon he placed his hands onto Leon’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Do I need to dig out the pros and cons list you wanted to make? It only had like two things in the cons-column.”
> 
> Leon chuckled a little, despite himself. “Those two things were kind of big, though.”
> 
> “Maybe,” Piers admitted, “but they were also kind of far fetched. In what universe would I get tired of you and kick you out? Trust me. That’s not going to happen.”
> 
> “You say so now,” Leon replied dryly, meeting Piers’ gaze with his own. “You haven’t actually lived with me yet. I could be terrible.”
> 
> “I already know you hog all the blankets and forget to switch off the TV at night.” Piers shrugged. “I don’t think I slept a full night at my own place in _months_. It’s not that big of a step, if you think about it.”
> 
> Apparently his nonchalant realism was exactly what Leon had needed as the nervousness was dissipating already, replaced by the sheer excitement of having this place for themselves. With a small huff Leon fell forward, against Piers, wrapping his arms around him to squeeze him tight. “I don’t hog all the blankets,” he argued, even if he knew it was late for it, “you’re the one who keeps tossing and turning so much they end up on my side.”
> 
> “Sure sure,” Piers laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
> 
> There were still fears lingering somewhere in the back of Leon’s mind. What if he really did screw this up and things would blow up spectacularly in his face? That was what had always happened, before. There hadn’t been a single romantic endeavor in his life that hadn’t ended in heartbreak and misery. For years, he’d avoided everything that had even the potential to evolve into something more serious, just because he didn’t want to put himself through that again. 
> 
> But now, standing here in the middle of all the boxes, with Piers’ arms around him? He dared to hope. 

## 19.11.2016

“Want to tell me what the hell that was all about!?” 

With a sigh, Leon stopped in his tracks as Helena’s harsh voice cut through the air. He really, really could’ve gone without the lecture she was no doubt going to give him, but there was something so persistent in her voice that Leon knew already that she wasn’t going to let it go. “It wasn’t that bad,” he answered emotionlessly, “you’re overreacting.” 

Helena stepped right in front of him, her face like a storm, eyes flashing with anger. “Look, don’t try to pull that shit with me. I was _there_!” She crowded forward, into his personal space, obviously so angry she gave it no thought. “You are out of control!”

At that, Leon huffed. He closed his eyes, hoping against all hope that she’d somehow disappear if he didn’t look at her. They’d just spent over eight hours combing through a building so infested with zombies it felt more than overwhelming. And what had they gotten to show for it? One single survivor. Out of the three people they’d found, two had already been infected, their time up before they even cleared the building. 

At least they’d gotten one person out. 

Leon opened his eyes, and Helena hadn’t budged. She hadn’t moved an inch. So he met her gaze straight, his voice level and uninterested as he spoke. “I know what I’m doing. I saved you, didn’t I?” 

Somehow Helena’s rage seemed to grow tenfold. “That is _not_ the point!” she burst out. “You’re not supposed to put _yourself_ in mortal danger needlessly to do that! You could’ve shot it, instead of throwing yourself at it!” She took a deep breath, clearly trying to control herself, but then raised her hand to give his shoulder a small shove. “You need to cut that shit or you’re going to get yourself killed!”

Guilt spiked up in Leon’s gut. He hadn’t been trying to get killed deliberately, had he? He didn’t think he had. Yet no matter how much he tried to think back to the moment he couldn’t be certain. “It’s not like that would be such a big deal,” he muttered, even though as soon as the words left his lips he knew what kind of a reaction they’d get.

He was right, she got even angrier. Rightfully so, if he was being honest.

“You’ve got to be—” She drew in a shaky breath, full of rage, and when she went on her voice was barely held together by the faintest trace of self control. “Look. I get that you lost your boyfriend and that it sucks. But did you already forget that I lost my _sister_? And you don’t see me throwing myself into danger like I’ve got a fucking death wish.”

Leon opened his mouth to cut off her tirade but he found no words. It felt like a low blow, like she was belittling his loss, comparing it to her own and finding it lacking. Whether she meant it or not, she insinuated that losing a sibling was somehow worse than losing one’s partner. Like she had still pulled the shorter straw, and Leon was somehow _luckier_. He’d _only_ lost a _boyfriend_.

How was he supposed to explain to her that Piers had been so much more than that? To tell her not to compare their lives, their losses and their grief? To explain how it gutted him alive to even think about what happened, even after all of these months? The words got stuck in his throat, like a dam that was holding back the ocean of hurt that could barely fit in him. All he got out was a choked “ _Don’t_.”

She ignored him. “You’ve got to realize that life goes on! You’ve got to concern yourself more with the living than the dead. Like it or not, you’re still here! And you can’t keep putting everyone around you in danger just because you’re too lost inside your head!” As she spoke she took another step forward, until they were almost chest to chest, as if she could somehow intimidate him into giving in.

Leon almost tripped over his own feet as he took a step back, trying to get some space to breathe. “Stop _lecturing_ me,” he pleaded, although it came out so silently he wasn’t even sure if she heard him. 

Whether she did or not, she didn’t acknowledge it, but instead let out all of the anger that had apparently been building up. “Pull your head out of your ass and look around! People are trying to help. Everyone here is ready to support you. But you need to stop being a fucking _coward_ and running away from your problems.”

That, right there, hit too close to home and made Leon snap. “ _Stop_ it!” he damn near screamed, not even realizing that every single pair of eyes in the makeshift basecamp was now directed right at them. Until now people had been trying to at least pretend that they weren’t eavesdropping but now all of that pretense was gone and they were openly staring, shocked. 

Leon spun around and marched off.

> ## 1.7.2015
> 
> Piers was exhausted. The pain was coming and going in waves. It was intense agony that doubled him over one second, but then ebbed out into a dull throb the next, only to come back even worse after a breath. And it was harder and harder to keep his focus. It was almost as if his mutated arm had a life of its own, twitching and twisting and throbbing, and he had to use all of his strength to keep it under control. Even as he watched the monster quiver on the ground with its last seconds alive, he couldn’t stop thinking about his arm. 
> 
> Suddenly Chris was right there in front of him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and demanding his attention. “Piers, c’mon!” he sounded urgent, like he was trying to mask the fear he was feeling, but even if he kept his voice somewhat under control the wild panic was visible in his eyes. “Just stay with me. You’re gonna be okay!” 
> 
> A wave of nausea hit Piers so suddenly he struggled to even speak up, the familiar pain right at its heels. “I’m sorry… cap-tain,” he pushed out through his teeth, bracing himself against the next flash of pain that shook his entire frame. But he had to explain, he _had to_ , he didn’t want to be just another monster in the line of monsters, another victim to the hunger for power that took over. 
> 
> So he took a deep breath, searching for Chris’ eyes with his own, even if it felt like all he saw was muted colors of what once was. “I did it… for the BSAA,” Piers gasped, hating how long it took for him to even find the words, “for the _future_.” For the innocent people that would’ve died if that monster had been released into the world, for the fellow soldiers that would’ve lost their lives fighting it, for the people he loved and wanted safe. Yet there was no way he could get all of that articulated, not now.
> 
> At least it seemed like Chris understood him, as his face softened, the desperation melting away for the moment in favor of something almost soothing. “I know,” he said, squeezing Piers’ shoulder a little. “You did a real good thing.”
> 
> Relieved, Piers nodded. At least Chris would get out of here alive. Chris could tell everyone what happened, he could explain why Piers did what he had to do. Somehow that was the most important thing now that Piers knew that he wasn’t going to live to tell the tale himself. A fresh wave of pain went through him, but this time it wasn’t physical, it was utter devastation as he realized he wasn’t going to see the light of day ever again. He’d never see the sun. Or his parents. His home, Leon— 
> 
> Swallowing down the tears that suddenly threatened to overflow, Piers looked down at his feet, unable to handle anything else. “As long as you—”
> 
> “I don’t want to hear it!” Chris snapped, interrupting the statement. He grabbed the back of Piers’ head and made him look up, forced him to meet his eyes. “We’re both getting out of here! Alright?”
> 
> There was so much determination in his voice, in his eyes, that for a second Piers believed him. For a second he _hoped_ , imagined how it could be to walk outside into the sun again. Imagined how he’d step over the threshold and into the living room, to be greeted by blue eyes and a relieved smile. Imagined falling into that warm embrace, breathing in the comforting scent, and never letting go.
> 
> So against all better judgment Piers nodded. 
> 
> Relief was visible on Chris’ face as he nodded as well, patted Piers’ arm a little as if as a thank you. There was almost a smile as Chris looked back at Piers once more, inclining his head towards the door. “Let’s go.”
> 
> And Piers did his best to keep up. He cleared the path for them, channeling the electricity from his arm even at the cost of all the pain it caused. Maybe he could get out of here, after all. Maybe he could get outside, maybe he could get a word for Leon and for his parents, even if he wouldn’t get to see them in person before he died. Maybe he could at least talk to them. Hear their voices. Make sure that Leon had gotten out of the infected city in one piece, make sure he was alright. God, he prayed Leon was alright. If he could only make sure of that, then he could let go, then he’d be ready.
> 
> Yet it was becoming more and more apparent with every step he took that he was only fooling himself. The entire right side of his body was like on fire, it hurt so much he could barely think straight. But that wasn’t even the worst of the pain. The worst was knowing he’d never see any of his loved ones again. All of the hopes he had tried to cling onto were like crushed right in front of his eyes and he didn’t know how to deal with any of that. 
> 
> When the next flash of pain shot through Piers he let it take over, falling onto his knees with the force of it. What was the point, when he knew he’d fail? 
> 
> “Piers!” Chris called for him, spinning around to run back to him. It only took a second for Chris to realize just how hopeless the situation was, and it was all evident in the weak, defeated tone of his voice. “Damnit.” 
> 
> With a grunt Piers waved his hand. “Just _go_!” He’d die here. It didn’t mean Chris had to.
> 
> But Chris was having none of it. “No!” he argued almost angrily, already moving to haul Piers up by wrapping an arm around him. “You’re gonna be okay!” With a grunt he lifted Piers off the ground, supporting most of his weight as he struggled to move forward. “We’re almost there.”
> 
> Being moved like that hurt more than Piers had words to describe and so he gave in, decided not to argue. He didn’t have the strength for that, anyway. 

## 25.1.2017

It was already like a big cosmic joke that Leon never got to have his vacation. 

When Chris and Rebecca had barged in, it had been obvious from the first second that they wanted something. They held their shoulders back, their mouths pinched to grim lines, and they looked every bit of determined agents on a mission. And although Leon tried, the best he could, to show how very little he was interested in whatever they were up to, he’d known right from the start that he was fighting a losing battle.

“Look,” Chris said, flipping the laptop around to show the screen to Leon, “This is Glenn Arias. An arms dealer.” He was gesturing towards the pictures flashing on the screen as he explained why exactly this Arias person needed to be taken down, gave the needed background information. He was obviously passionate about taking down this arms dealer, making the world safer, no doubt.

But Leon found it hard to care. If they’d kill this Arias person, another one would spawn in his place, then another one, until the end of times. The world never ran out of these assholes. And as much as Leon wanted to care about helping his friend… he didn’t, not really. In the logical part of his brain he had already decided he would help Chris, but it was just that. Logic. Knowing that he _should_. Without an ounce of actual interest. 

He was tired of feeling so numb.

Finally Chris trailed off, looking at Leon expectantly, waiting for his answer to his tirade. Leon met his gaze, twisting his mouth into a frown as he went over the information in his mind. “So, you’ve got an arms dealer on one side,” he started slowly, “on the other, a government dropping bombs on _weddings_?”

‘ _Mom’s already planning the wedding_ ,’ an echo of a memory whispered in the back of Leon’s head, ‘ _just in case you want to propose_.’ Every single word was like spoken right into his ear and Leon could’ve sworn he felt the hot breath brushing against his ear, felt the smile against his neck as if it had been yesterday. He swallowed hard, pushed back the thick wave of nausea that rolled over him. This wasn’t the time to break down. This wasn’t. He couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_.

Leon still remembered the nervousness, how his heart had been drumming as he’d slipped the ring he’d bought into his pocket and weighed his options on where to hide it. He had known Piers would say yes. There was no doubt of that, they’d talked about taking this step often enough. And although it had been the good kind of nervousness, he had felt his palms go clammy and his knees turn to jelly from the mere thought of proposing. It had been nothing compared to the excitement, though. 

But he hadn’t even gotten to propose.

It took momentous effort, but Leon forced the grief back, pretended like he was as unaffected as he wanted to be. “Who’s the bad guy here?” And he did, he truly did, feel some compassion towards this apparently ruthless person. No one deserved to lose all of their loved ones. No one deserved to go through something like this. 

“Arias!” Chris exploded, slamming his hand onto the table and leaning over it. “And it’s our mission to bring his ass down!”

“ _Your_ mission!” Leon spat out, anger reading its head. He welcomed it, as feeling anger was much preferable to feeling nothing at all. “Not mine!” He didn’t care that he’d already long ago decided he would help. It was easier to yell back than to admit how hollow he truly felt. 

Chris straightened, huffing out a breath, and if Leon hadn’t known him so well he would’ve missed the helplessness, the frustration and the fear underneath all of the anger he was hiding it under. “Goddamnit, Leon!” Chris growled, but he never managed to say what he already braced himself for. 

“Stop!” Rebecca cut in, anger in her voice, even if her expression was only worried, her eyes sad. She looked between the two of them, and the silence around them was deafening as she went on. “Look, Leon, I’m sorry we had to come here and drag you into this. But we really, really need your help. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

With a huff Chris sat down, slumping forward in his seat as if all fight had gone out of him, too. “If you really want us to leave, we will. But hear me out first, okay?” 

The pleading look Chris gave him was more than enough to sway Leon. As much as he was yearning for another bottle of whiskey to wash down the lump in his throat, he couldn’t stand to see Chris this desperate either. For the first time in months, he wanted to get up and do something for another person, because they needed him. Not only because a job was preferable to staying still.

So Leon nodded.

> ## 10.11.2014
> 
> With a soft huff Leon crossed his arms and rested his head on them, too lazy to grab the pillow that was, admittedly, well in reach. Piers was a comforting weight on his back, practically blanketing him with the way he was draped over him. “Not that this isn’t nice,” he grinned into the crook of his arm, pausing to catch his breath, “but I distinctly remember you promising me dinner, and instead you distract me from it.”
> 
> As an answer Piers planted a kiss in the nape of Leon’s neck, smiling against the same spot right after. “What can I say,” he replied, voice still hoarse, “it’s your fault for being so damn tempting that I can’t get enough of you.” 
> 
> “So it’s a good thing that you’re stuck with me?”
> 
> “I hope I am,” Piers laughed, low and throaty, before nuzzling his nose into Leon’s neck. “Mom’s already planning the wedding,” he said with a grin, the amusement evident in his voice too. “You know, just in case you want to propose sometime.” What he didn’t say out loud was that he had already bought a ring himself. He wanted it to be a surprise for when he’d figure out how to propose, how to make it memorable. Leon deserved that, he deserved to be pampered and treated like he was special. Because he was.
> 
> So Piers had hidden the ring, in the DVD case of Dawn of the Dead because Leon didn’t have any appreciation for the classics when it came to that genre. He wouldn’t be caught dead watching a zombie movie, so Piers was certain his hiding place was the most ingenious one _in the world_. And while he sort of had wanted to go down on one knee the second he’d purchased the ring, he knew it would be even better if he’d wait for the right moment. 
> 
> At his words, Leon just hummed, shifting lazily so that he could look at Piers over his shoulder. “That’s because your mother loves me. I’m her favorite.”
> 
> “Why do you keep saying that!?” Piers squawked indignantly, but he couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter that followed. “I _know_ you are.” He even slapped Leon’s shoulder lightly, but the next second he pressed his lips against the same spot, breathing a kiss on the smooth skin. “And honestly, I think it’s one more thing to add to the pro-column. Your mother-in-law would adore you.”
> 
> “Do we have anything in the cons-column?” Leon asked, a little sleepily. The shared warmth was so comfortable, and he couldn’t help but relax until he felt boneless with it. Piers’ hand was moving slowly against his side in a soft caress, and that alone made Leon want to propose right at that second. But he didn’t even have a ring yet.
> 
> Piers made a thoughtful sound, pausing as if he was giving it real thought. Then he gave an awkward one-shouldered shrug that Leon felt more than saw. “You have the shittiest taste in movies?” he answered after a while. “And you’re such a restless sleeper, seriously, it’s like I need to pin you down or you’d roll off the bed.”
> 
> “The _shittiest_?” This time Leon didn’t only turn his head but pressed both his forearms against the mattress for leverage, so that he could roll over and in the movement make Piers fall off his back. All that the younger man managed was a little squeak though, and Leon already had shifted to pin him down with his full bodyweight. “Take. That. Back,” he growled, aiming for menacing but landing somewhere between ridiculous and amused.
> 
> Their faces were so close their noses were touching, and all Piers did was grin before he tilted his head and initiated a slow, lazy kiss. Only when they pulled apart from it, he went on. “You also have icy cold feet,” he chuckled, but then the amusement turned into fondness, and when he went on he sounded sincere, “but I don’t care. I want you anyway.” He reached out, his fingertips brushing over Leon’s cheek. “I wanna give you the _world_.”
> 
> And just like that, Leon was overflowing with emotion, unable to get a word out for a moment. Even when he spoke, his voice was thick with it. “God you’re so cheesy. How do you even come up with this stuff?” He didn’t wait for a reply though, instead stole another slow kiss. And once it broke he relaxed against the other man, closed his eyes and allowed himself to focus on _them_. 
> 
> Only a moment later Leon was almost asleep, lingering on the edges of consciousness, but he still somehow managed to mutter out an “I love you.”
> 
> Warm fingers brushed over the back of his neck, and even though he fell asleep before he heard a reply, he knew. 

## 26.1.2017

Everything hurt even with the quality painkillers Leon had been given. His arm wasn’t broken but it was bruised to high heavens and he had to wince if he as much as moved it. Not that he didn’t have enough bruises elsewhere, too, one of his ribs most likely broken and his ankle twisted bad enough for him to feel it with every step. 

The worst part was the tiredness. When Chris had suggested Leon stay over at his place, Leon hadn’t even had the needed energy to argue that and had just nodded, allowed Chris to drag him along. 

That’s how he’d ended up on Chris’ couch, with a big mug of tea between his palms. He’d hoped for something alcoholic, to be honest, or even coffee since that wasn’t exactly the best option with all the painkillers that had been pumped into him. But Chris had insisted on tea, saying it was some calming herbal shit that Claire swore by, and so Leon had caved. Again. 

Chris was sitting right next to him, a warm, solid presence, and for a while it was almost comfortable. Until Chris broke the silence with a reluctantly muttered “We need to talk.”

There it was. Leon braced himself, knowing he’d get yelled at again. So it took him by surprise when all Chris did was shuffle a little closer until their shoulders were bumping, and went on with a low, calm voice. “I’m not good at this, and you know it. So bear with me, okay?” He didn’t wait for Leon to acknowledge the words, but pushed on. “It’s been two years and you’re not even trying to process it.”

At that Leon whipped his head around to look at Chris, an angry remark already on the tip of his tongue. 

But Chris held out a placating hand, even offered a small smile as if to show he wasn’t trying to stir up an argument. “And it’s partly my fault. When Piers—” Chris had to pause for a second, his voice cracking, and when he finally went on it was clear how much he was trying to hold back and not let himself show weakness. “Piers asked me to take care of you. And I’ve been doing a piss poor job of that. Seriously fucked that up until now. So. Be prepared for that to change.”

“Chris,” Leon sighed, “it really isn’t your job. I’ve fucked up enough myself.” Somehow seeing how affected Chris still was by the tragedy calmed something inside of Leon. For the first time ever since that day he felt like someone almost …understood him. 

“Yeah I know. You’re a grown man and all that shit,” Chris grinned a little, and although it turned out faint it was the attempt that counted. “But you’ve been my best friend for fifteen years. And it’s not fair that I just ran away and buried myself in work instead of trying to be there for you. I promise I’ll do better. If you just…”

Chris trailed off, so Leon looked up at him, meeting his gaze straight. “If I what?”

“Look,” Chris sighed, “You never talk to me anymore. You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer Claire’s. Sherry is worried sick because she hasn’t heard from you in months.” He looked straight at Leon, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Yeah you lost Piers. But you didn’t lose everyone. There are still people who care about you. If you’d only let them.”

It felt like there was a huge clawed hand gripping his heart, squeezing it until it bled, and Leon could only nod curtly as there was no way he could speak up right now and make his voice work. He reached out to place his mug on the table, not trusting his shaky fingers to hold it anymore.

They were silent for such a long while that Leon already thought that they were done, that there was nothing else to add. Yet then Chris grabbed his shoulder – the left one, the one that he knew didn’t hurt so much – giving it a small, friendly squeeze. “I know it won’t happen overnight, but you’ll get through this, okay.”

There was the faintest of smiles on Leon’s lips as he nodded, bringing one of his hands on top of Chris’ to give it a squeeze in return. “Okay,” he breathed out, and it felt like a mountain fell off his heart along with that one exhalation, “okay.”

Knowing Chris wouldn’t mind, Leon leaned sideways until he was practically resting against Chris, shoulder to shoulder. Easily Chris responded by wrapping an arm around Leon, accepting the comfort the closeness brought them both. And it was only in that moment that Leon really understood how much Chris had been suffering, too. How much grief and hurt and guilt he’d been carrying inside of him. Probably still was. 

So he rested his head on Chris’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “We both will.”

As an answer, Chris momentarily tightened the embrace. He didn’t let go, and Leon didn’t pull away. Eventually they ended up falling asleep right there, sitting on the couch and slumped against one another.

> ## 1.7.2015
> 
> Time stopped mattering, and Piers had no idea how many corridors Chris had already dragged him through. His mutated arm was pulsing with each beat of his heart, twitching on its own. There was like a cage around Piers’ lungs, making every breath laborious, and he didn’t know if it was the infection spreading inside of him or if he was just plain dying. 
> 
> “The escape pods!” Chris sounded almost excited, definitely relieved, when they stepped through the doorway and he saw the row of spheres waiting for them like a gift from above. There was urgency in Chris’ steps as he quickly lugged Piers closer and helped him sit down against the wall, and he flashed a grin as he gestured towards the pods. “See that? We’ll be outta here in no time.”
> 
> Silently Piers watched as Chris muttered to himself in frustration, trying to override the safety of the pod to get it ready for launch. Then his arm moved, making a sick squelching sound. Piers turned to look at it, the visible reminder of what he’d done to himself, and his heart sank. It wasn’t only the arm, but half of his ribcage was like blasted open, sick looking mucus and slime clinging on to what once were his ribs but now were twisted unnaturally. 
> 
> Even cutting off the entire arm couldn’t save him at this point. 
> 
> Then Chris was back in front of him, giving him an encouraging smile as he reached out his hand. “Here we go, Piers. We’re getting out of here.” He looked almost unbearably hopeful, like he was relieved they’d gotten to this point. Like he still believed that they would both step into that escape pod. 
> 
> “Chris,” Piers croaked, his voice rough, throat like sandpaper. “I’m not going to make it.”
> 
> “No!” Chris burst out, interrupting. 
> 
> But Piers didn’t give in. He swatted away Chris’ hand as he tried to reach to help him up. “No, Chris, _listen to me_ ,” he tried again, intently. “Please. Listen. _If_ I die here—” He trailed off, as he knew more than well that there was no ‘if’. But he was desperate for Chris to listen, and if this was what would make him stop and listen, then so be it. It seemed to help, as Chris stopped in his tracks, only looking at Piers seriously, silently, waiting. 
> 
> So Piers forced the words out. His voice was silent, barely audible over the rush of water right behind the wall, but it was surprisingly easy to keep going once the words started coming, he barely even stuttered. “Please tell my parents I love them. All I wanted was to make them proud.” He had to pause for a moment, his voice breaking on a sob. This was important though, important to get through even with the pain that was gnawing at his insides, rotting him away from the inside out. “I love them, and I’m sorry that they don’t even get a body to bury.”
> 
> Chris’ expression got more pinched, his mouth twisted to a grim line, and he looked like he was a second away from interrupting so Piers soldiered on quickly. He _needed_ to. “And L-leon, look after him, okay,” he closed his eyes, his heart twisting in his chest, “Make him take care of himself.” At least it was a small mercy that he could tell all of this to Chris, of all people. Chris understood. If anything, he understood.
> 
> Then a thought crossed Piers’ mind and he had to laugh at the absurdity of it, even if the sound was wet and choked, far from a genuine sound of happiness. “Tell him that he’d better get that damn garden, okay, stop stalling and buy that house.” Finally he forced his eyes open, meeting Chris’ gaze with his own. The other man looked as devastated as Piers felt, and it made the lump in his throat grow in size until speaking around it was impossible. Another wave of pain wrecked through him, making him tremble. 
> 
> Every breath hurt, but even more he felt like his heart was being pulverized to dust.
> 
> Yet he couldn’t stop here. There was one last thing he needed to get out. “Tell him,” he whispered, barely audibly, a hint of a smile ghosting over his face, “tell him I love him.”
> 
> Chris looked like he would either burst into tears or punch through the wall right next to them. He did neither, but instead determinedly grabbed a hold of Piers’ arm, hauling him upright. “You’ll tell him that yourself. Now c’mon. We’re getting the hell out of here. It’s time to go home.” He maneuvered them to the escape pod, turning to help Piers inside—
> 
> The shock was evident on Chris’ face, his eyes wide as he barely managed to look back at Piers before he was falling into the escape pod, all air forced from his lungs as he thudded down onto his back. Only when the hatch began to close Chris was spurred into action and he scrambled to stand up, practically slamming himself against the windowpane as he was screaming for Piers to open the door. 
> 
> He was pleading and threatening, he was bargaining and ordering, and none of it had any effect. None of it worked. “C’mon, Piers. You can still make it out of here!” he tried, one last time. He sounded absolutely devastated, his voice cracking. “Please don’t make me leave you behind.” There was a pause, as if Chris was hesitating, and when he spoke again the crackle of the communicator almost drowned out his voice. “What am I going to tell Leon? He’d want you to save yourself.”
> 
> That hurt, more than anything Chris had said up until then. For a second, Piers was swayed. He even took a step back closer to the pod, his hand twitching towards it. But every rational part of his mind kept screaming at him, telling him it was of no use, he was being a hopeful idiot. There was no way to recover from what he’d gone through. 
> 
> Piers took a deep breath. Then he launched the pod. 
> 
> Even after Piers no longer heard Chris’ voice through their communicators, even when his world had narrowed down to the pain and the roaring of water, he watched. The monster they had thought was long dead appeared back, like they always seemed to, and Piers suddenly knew with startling clarity how he could finish it once and for all.
> 
> He focused, channeled all of the electricity inside himself, until he could launch it in one blinding flash that would destroy the monster. And as the last wave of electricity punched through Piers, as if burning every single atom in him, he closed his eyes. He gathered himself, focused all of his willpower.
> 
> For the last second of his life, he thought about that slight upwards curve of Leon’s mouth, the smile that always seemed to be reserved only for him.
> 
> Then everything was gone. 

## 17.3.2017

There was no denying the way Leon’s heart was thrumming in his chest from sheer nervousness as he pressed the doorbell and waited. The house was nice, white picket fence and all, carefully tended to garden. The last time he’d been here was over two years ago, and the mere thought of that sent a spike of shame through him. He didn’t even remember if there had been daffodils, then.

The door opened, and Leon forced himself to smile.

“Leon?” Mrs Nivans looked at him from wide, surprised eyes only for a second, before her expression melted into a smile, leaps more genuine than Leon’s pathetic attempt at one. “It’s so good to see you. Come on in, I’ll make some tea!” She grabbed his elbow and pulled him inside without even waiting for a reply, only turning to close the door behind them. “It’ll be just the two of us, I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” Leon answered honestly. Already seeing how genuinely pleased she’d been to see him had lifted a weight off his shoulders, and it felt a little easier to breathe. “It was you I wanted to see, M—”

She spun around, arching an eyebrow at him. It made her look achingly much like her son, the expression practically identical. “I hope that you were about to call me Melissa. Don’t even try to distance yourself now. Once family, always family.” Already while talking she led him into the kitchen, where large windows let in streams of sunlight. It was like straight from a storybook, homely and cozy. 

“Sit down, I’ll put the kettle on,” Melissa continued, apparently in high spirits. She pulled a tin can full of cookies from the cabinet, fussing around the kitchen like she always used to.

Somehow that made Leon feel better and worse, both at once. It was comforting that some things never changed, and the easy way she welcomed him into her house felt like an almost overwhelming honor. At the same time it multiplied the guilt, underlined how Leon didn’t deserve any of the kindness. Not with how he’d _abandoned_ Piers’ parents after what had happened.

So the first thing he got out was a “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Melissa frowned at him. She abandoned the teapot and immediately took a seat next to him, leaning in to look him in the eye. “What are you talking about?”

Leon offered her a soft, tired smile. “I haven’t exactly been acting like family. I should’ve—” He shrugged vaguely, unable to really make words work. “I haven’t even called you in almost two years. What kind of an asshole does that?” He didn’t even realize to watch his language around her like he would’ve, before. 

Gently she squeezed his forearm. “Honey, it’s alright. Everyone goes through this differently. I… for the first month all I did was bake. We had cakes and cookies and muffins and we didn’t know what to even do with all of them because there was no way we could eat them all. But it was the only thing that helped me. So if distance is what you needed? I would never deny that from you.”

When Leon looked up she was smiling, looking at him with more warmth than Leon’s own mother had ever had for him. So when she leaned in for a hug he pulled her close, holding her so tight it made them both laugh. Eventually she pulled back, patting his cheek a little. “But I hope that you’ll visit more often from now on. And if you’re—” She paused, hesitated, but then went on hopefully. “When you’re ready, I would love to have someone to reminisce with. I don’t get to talk about my boy a lot.”

“I—” Leon trailed off, before nodding once, twice. “I’d like that. And that’s… that’s partly why I’m here. I was hoping you’d have some photographs?” It was his turn to look hopeful, and he damn nearly held his breath as he waited for an answer. One didn’t come immediately, so he nervously burst out an explanation. “I kinda… got rid of all the printed photos I had. And now I regret that.”

“Oh, but of course!” Melissa announced, her smile brightening. “I’ll finally make that tea and then I will get the photo albums! I _know_ I have a lot of duplicates, we’ll make you an album of your own, we just need—” She launched off into an excited explanation, already planning their grand project as she poured their tea.

The tea was good, but what warmed Leon even more was how she welcomed him with such open arms. When he left she made him promise to come back soon. At the door she handed him a framed picture, before hugging him as tight as she physically could. 

Somehow looking at Piers’ smiling face in the photograph didn’t make Leon feel like suffocating. Not anymore. 

At home he placed the photograph on the bedside table. For the first time in months he slept through the entire night.

> ## 31.11.2014
> 
> “Are you sure that we need this much space?” Leon asked, giving an evaluating look to the house in front of them. It was small, yes, but it was still _a house_ and Leon had never lived in one ever since he got out of his childhood home. And that had been twenty years ago. 
> 
> “C’mon,” Piers nudged him with his elbow, grinning at him brightly as soon as their eyes met. “It’s not _that_ big. You saw the blueprints! It’s got a living space, kitchen and the bathroom downstairs, and three rooms upstairs. I wouldn’t call that a mansion. It’s perfect.”
> 
> Leon couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm that was practically radiating from the younger man. It was definitely contagious. “Perfect, huh?” 
> 
> “ _Yes_ ,” Piers replied with emphasis. He shifted until he could hook his arm with Leon’s, leaning against him so he could speak right into his ear. “Upstairs, there’d be _our_ bedroom, a guestroom, and we can do whatever you want with the third one. Let your imagination go wild!”
> 
> Truth to be told, Leon didn’t really know how wild ideas he could have with a small family house. It looked quaint, like some old lady probably lived there with three cats and was visited regularly by her grandchildren. It was nothing like anything Leon had ever imagined for himself. After Raccoon City he hadn’t even thought he’d live long enough to settle down, much less to this extent. Yet the idea of it was more than a little tempting. 
> 
> “Alright,” he agreed with a sigh. “Let’s go inside and take the tour.”
> 
> They weren’t the only ones looking at the property, as in addition to them and the real estate agent there were two other couples who seemed interested in buying. Although if Leon had to guess, the young pair would definitely pass, as the heavily pregnant wife seemed to be dissatisfied with the mere idea of renovations and there was quite a bit to be done in the place. Her husband was more enthusiastic, but the way he looked at her was like she’d hung the moon so if she set her foot down, he’d definitely budge. The older couple though, Leon had no idea how interested they were.
> 
> The realtor told them to take their time and look around, and to ask her whatever questions they might have. So slowly they wandered through the living room first, before heading into the kitchen. There was no furniture, but it was easy to imagine how cozy the room would be once it was furnished properly. “Look how much counter space there is!” Piers sighed happily as they stepped into the kitchen. 
> 
> That now made Leon laugh and he shook his head, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice even when he spoke. “…you don’t even cook.” He arched an eyebrow at the other man, giving him a long look. 
> 
> Piers just shrugged a little, obviously unbothered. “I might learn!”
> 
> The older woman who had been checking out the kitchen too gave them an almost condescending look, but masked it with a smile as she turned to look at them. “So which one of you boys is planning on moving here?” she asked, and although the words were perfectly polite in themselves, there was something about the way they were said that made both Leon and Piers uncomfortable. 
> 
> “Actually, we both are,” Leon answered her question quickly, knowing that if he’d give Piers the time to answer then there was no telling what he’d say. Even if he’d mellowed out considerably, his temper was still quick and sometimes he tended to say things before thinking them through.
> 
> There was clear surprise on the woman’s face, and she even dared to wrinkle her nose distastefully. “I didn’t realize you’re…” She trailed off, making a vague gesture with her hand that was absolutely nonsensical.
> 
> That rubbed Leon the wrong way and he knew that Piers would agree. So as nonchalantly as he could, he shifted to bump Piers’ shoulder with his own. “I think we’ll be very happy here. Or what do you think, _babe_?” They weren’t really ones to use pet names, but he put clear emphasis on it now, and immediately there was a sparkle in Piers’ eyes as he realized what Leon was up to. 
> 
> “I don’t know yet, _sweetheart_ ,” Piers replied, wrapping an arm around Leon’s waist as he spoke. He even went as far as to drip his hand into Leon’s pocket, grinning a little wider as that immediately made the woman’s eyes widen a smidgen. He didn’t acknowledge her for real though, but instead kept smiling at Leon. “I wanna check the bathroom out first. We can’t possibly stay if the shower isn’t big enough for the _both_ of us. Honey I’d never shower without you.”
> 
> “As you wish, darling.” Leon didn’t really have to fake the heart-eyes he gave Piers, but he couldn’t hold back his laughter entirely. So he leaned in and stole a kiss, just because he could. He’d intended for it to be a quick peck, but then there was a warm palm in the back of his head, sliding down his neck, and who was he to resist. He certainly didn’t mind. 
> 
> Once they broke apart they were the only two people in the kitchen, and they only exchanged quick looks before they both broke down in laughter. 
> 
> Even for the rest of the tour they kept dropping petnames, getting more and more obnoxious with them as they got kind of carried off. The pregnant lady gave them curious looks, rather amused than anything else, but the older couple tried to keep a respectable distance at all times, more or less successfully. 
> 
> “Seriously though, this might be it,” Piers said as they stepped outside onto the back porch and looked into the garden. There wasn’t much out there but it was spacious enough, and Piers was already imagining having all of their friends and his family over for a nice summer barbecue. “It’s the best we’ve seen.”
> 
> It was a nice place, Leon agreed. There was potential, it was homey and not too big, but he wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about it as Piers was. “You do realize this needs a ton of renovations? The bathroom is a disaster, and the kitchen looks like it’s from the thirties—”
> 
> Quickly Piers pressed a finger onto Leon’s lips, cutting him off. “Don’t.” He grinned. “That’s why we’ll get it so cheap, and we can make it look our own.” He looked so confident about it that Leon was immediately swayed, almost convinced already with such little effort. “Dad and I redid the bathroom in my parents’ house. I know how it’s done.”
> 
> “Yeah?” Leon laughed, a tad disbelievingly. “Will you promise me that? I’m not going to live in the middle of renovations for months.” Although he knew that he wasn’t kidding anyone, not even himself. If this place was what Piers wanted? Leon would damn well live in the middle of a renovation as long as it took. No question about that.
> 
> “Trust me, _sugar_ ,” Piers replied with so much emphasis that it was impossible not to believe him. 
> 
> So instead of arguing, Leon simply tilted his head enough to capture Piers’ lips with his own. 

## 19.3.2017

It felt almost eerie, walking through the empty house, even with the way sunlight was streaming in through the open windows. There were no curtains yet, no rugs on the floor and no furniture anywhere. One could still imagine how quaint the little house would be once it looked properly lived in, a home instead of empty walls. Chris stopped to drop the bag of groceries in the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of beer before heading outside.

Out on the back porch, Leon was standing with his back to the door, taking in the state of the garden. Although it was less an actual garden and more an overgrown backyard full of weeds right now. No one had been living there for a good while and it showed, as the grass alone was easily knee high. It was a jungle out there. “So. You bought a house,” Chris stated as he stopped right next to Leon, handing over one of the beers. 

Leon took the offered bottle with a nod as thanks, before turning his gaze back towards the garden. “Yeah. I guess I did.” He wasn’t really sure if it had been a spur of a moment decision or something that had been stewing in the back of his mind waiting for the right moment. But when the realtor had contacted him, asking him if he still was interested in the property, it had felt like a sign from the universe and Leon had taken it. 

Thoughtfully Chris hummed a little, twisting his beer open to take a sip. “I never thought you’d want to live this far from the city,” he pointed out. It wasn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere, but it was in the very edges of the suburbia, with plenty of space between the houses and so much more privacy than there was closer to the center. 

“We…” Leon started, trailing off before finishing with a shrug. “We came to see this place together. Before.” He knew he didn’t have to explain it any further, didn’t have to specify what he meant, as understanding dawned on Chris’ face immediately. 

“Oh,” Chris nodded slowly. “Well that explains. He was such a country boy.”

That surprised a chuckle out of Leon. He hadn’t exactly been laughing a lot lately, but it felt surprisingly… liberating, as small as it was. “Yeah. Piers, he… he liked this place because it’s such a good fixer-upper.” At first he hesitated, but he pushed through. The more he’d talk, the easier it’d become. “He’d done some renovating with his father, so you know. He thought he was a total professional.” He grinned tentatively, glancing at Chris.

Chris laughed, shaking his head a little. “Sounds like him,” he agreed with a matching grin. “So he was gonna be the brain and you the muscle for the operation?”

Leon shrugged a little. “Well I’d sort of figured he’d be both. And I’d just do what I was told.” He paused, chewing on his lower lip as he looked over the overgrown garden again. He really didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into. He had never actually built anything, or done any renovation, much less _gardening_. And suddenly he missed Piers so much it felt like he might double over with the pain any second.

So he took a deep breath, then another, collected himself until he felt like he’d regained control. “But I suppose I’ll have to figure it out.”

“I could help,” Chris offered immediately, earnest and almost eager. “I’m not a professional, or anything, but I’m pretty handy.” 

“You really don’t need to…” Leon trailed off, not really sure how to react. A part of him was immensely relieved that Chris even wanted to help, as this felt like such a gargantuan task to tackle alone. Then again he didn’t want to force Chris into anything. And he wasn’t sure if anyone would enjoy spending prolonged amounts of time with him, the way he was these days. Sure he’d tried to reconnect with his friends, had picked up the phone when they called and hadn’t resisted when Chris had offered to drive him here today.

Yet he didn’t know if he could ask for anything more. Didn’t know if he had more to offer himself. “I’m not sure how fun company I’ll be,” he admitted honestly, finally opening his own beer to take a sip. There were days when he felt almost like himself. But there were days he could barely get himself out of bed, too, and there was no telling when those made an appearance. “It’s still. Hard.”

“C’mon, Leon, I get it,” Chris looked at him, his face open and vulnerable. He was consciously wearing his heart on his sleeve, let Leon see just how wrung out he was, his voice soft and honest as he went on. “I know you loved him, and that you miss him. But I loved him too. He was like a brother to me.” 

“I know,” Leon sighed, nodding a little. He closed his eyes for a second, tried to organize the chaos in his mind to make some logical words out of it. He didn’t really know how to say what he meant, so he blurted out the first thing he managed. “I… it’s not only that. I’m not sure if I deserve this, you know? Moving here. It was _his_ dream.” He paused, gathering courage. “And I got him killed.” 

It was the first time he’d admitted that out loud. He’d never told, to anyone, how it felt like he had been the one to cause this, how he had directly caused the tragedy just by sending Chris and Piers into the underwater facility. He’d carried it so heavily on his heart, tried not to be suffocated by it, and saying it out loud made it echo in his head, as if to underline it.

Chris stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide. “What?”

Leon gave an awkward shrug, fiddling with the bottle in his hand. He was resolutely staring at it, picking at the label with his fingers, as he refused to look at Chris. “I was the one who sent you two out there,” he explained silently, unable to get any more words out. Not even a single one.

The huff Chris let out was obviously frustrated, even angry, but he reeled himself in and didn’t let it show. There was a stern frown to his brow, but he spoke lowly, calmly. “ _Look_. If anyone’s to blame it’s _me_ ,” he argued. “I was there right next to him and I was too slow, too fucking weak, and it got him killed.” Quickly he waved his hand, stopped Leon from interrupting him like he’d so obviously been gearing up to do. “I’ve spent months thinking that if I’d just been a little stronger, or a little quicker and better and more clever…”

Chris trailed off, falling silent. He was staring at his feet, shoulders hunched, and Leon couldn’t bear to watch that any longer. So he stepped closer, sneaking an arm around Chris’ waist to pull him into a little awkward one-armed embrace. Chris had always been a tactile guy, and during the course of their friendship gestures like this had grown natural to them both. 

Grateful, Chris practically slumped against him, accepting the comfort. “It’s not your fault,” Leon whispered, his voice cracking halfway through the last word. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and his voice was steady again as he repeated it. “It’s not your fault.”

They stood there for a good while longer, side by side.

> ## 18.2.2016
> 
> “How are you holding up?” Claire squeezed Chris’ shoulder a little before plopping down to sit next to him on the couch. Shamelessly she lifted her feet up onto the table, slouching down in her place until she was snuggled up against his side. Easily Chris lifted an arm to slot it around her, as this was something they’d been doing ever since they were children. 
> 
> For a moment he pretended like he was focusing on the panel discussion on TV, but he knew that it only worked because Claire let it. So eventually he let out a small sigh, deciding to go with honesty from the get-go, before she’d annoy it out of him anyway. “I’m …dealing with it,” he confessed. “I’ve kept busy, that helps.”
> 
> Claire huffed. “You mean that helps you ignore the problem until it explodes in your face,” she said, even jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow a little awkwardly. She sighed then, giving a small nod, as she did understand where he was coming from. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” She tilted her head to look at him. “You know he was my friend, too.”
> 
> That sent a little pang of guilt through Chris. He knew he hadn’t exactly been the most supportive friend, to anyone, as he’d buried himself into work for months on end. This was the first time he really had set aside any time to spend with his sister after the funeral, even though they had met briefly several times and called each other every now and then. When it came to Sherry, he had only curtly answered to her messages whenever she’d chosen to contact him. And Leon… Quickly Chris shook his head, not ready to even think about that. “Yeah,” he agreed, “thanks.”
> 
> Absent mindedly they were both watching the television for a while, not really drawn in by it as they were so lost in their own thoughts. It was Claire who again broke the silence first, her voice somehow wistful and even hopeful. “Do you think we could have a …I don’t know, barbecue or a movie night or something? I miss those.” She sighed. 
> 
> In essence Chris agreed with her. He missed those, too, and getting the whole bunch together again sounded tempting. At the same time he knew it would never be the same anymore. There was a Piers-shaped hole that was impossible to fill with anything, and Chris wasn’t sure if he was ready to face that yet. But even more than that, he wasn’t sure if Leon would be ready to face that yet. And if he would be ready to face Leon. Sure it had been a year and a half since the tragedy, but time had passed by like in a fog, and it felt like so much less.
> 
> Chris didn’t even realize that he hadn’t answered anything to Claire, not before she nudged him a little. A worried frown on her face, she straightened and sat up properly, so that she could turn to face him. “It’s been well over a year, and I _know_ that there’s no time limit to it, and that it still hurts,” she started, patting his arm a little. “But maybe it could be helpful, too. Like a support group?”
> 
> “I don’t know, Claire,” Chris sighed, giving a small headshake. “If even _I’m_ not sure if I’m ready for that… I don’t think Leon is even close to it.” His heart twisted painfully and he tried to not even think about Leon, even if the attempt was doomed to fail from the beginning. He hadn’t been able to _stop_ thinking about the other man, not despite everything, and he wasn’t sure if he ever could. 
> 
> Claire looked crestfallen, nodding a little. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She had seen how it was. Every now and then she dropped by at Leon’s apartment, using her own spare key to go inside. When she found Leon in there, she tried to talk to him, tried to draw him out of the grief he was still drowning himself in. Didn’t mean that she’d had any success, but she kept trying. 
> 
> Except now, for the past months, the apartment had always been empty when she’d dropped by. She’d done what she could, thrown away the rotten food in the fridge and left something fresh in its stead, and hoped it would show she was still there for her friend. She still tried calling him several times a week, but he never picked up the phone anymore. Sighing, she looked up at her brother. “How is Leon?”
> 
> “I wouldn’t know.” Chris answered, avoiding her eyes. “I haven’t seen him since...” He paused, ashamed to even continue the sentence. Eventually he forced the words out. “Since the funeral.”
> 
> “You _what_!?” Claire jumped up from her seat in shock. She was staring at him from wide eyes, mouth agape, before bursting out in frustration. “Chris, what the _fuck_! He’s… your _best friend_. And you haven’t seen him in what, over a damn _year_!?” She opened her mouth to say more but apparently words failed her, and she just gestured weakly with her hands. 
> 
> “You don’t get it,” Chris groaned. He felt lower than dirt, but at the same time his stubbornness flared up and he needed to defend his decisions. “He doesn’t want to see anyone. He doesn’t want to even talk with anyone. Why the hell would I force him to?”
> 
> “Because he _needs you_!” Claire almost yelled. She took several breaths to calm herself down, but she was still visibly upset as she went on, blinking sudden tears from her eyes. She didn’t know if those were ones of anger or disappointment, or grief or frustration, but it took a good moment before she got a hold of herself. “I thought that if he’d open up to anyone it’d be you.”
> 
> She sat back down, reached out to grab Chris’ hand in her own. “When mom and dad died, I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you. Remember how I showed that to you?”
> 
> “You told me to fuck off and go to hell,” Chris replied automatically. He remembered it more than well, even if it had been twenty years ago. She’d been a ball of rage and hurt, and he had taken more than one hit trying to get through to her. And he already saw where she was going with the analogy.
> 
> “See?” Claire smiled at him faintly. “Even if help is needed, it’s not always easy to accept it. And I think it’s been way too long.” She inhaled shakily, trying to pretend like she didn’t feel like crying. “Please just talk to him, okay. You’ve been his closest friend for over ten years. Don’t let him lose that, too.”
> 
> “Yeah.” Slowly Chris nodded. “I’ll try.” 

## 29.3.2017

It was surprisingly easy to slot back into the friendship they’d had before, even with everything that had happened and the months that they’d basically ignored each other. They didn’t talk about it but Chris appeared at the house every day, now that Leon was basically living in it even though he only had a thin mattress in the corner of the living room and not much else. 

Chris was the one with more experience with renovations, even if it wasn’t that much, so he took it upon himself to go through the building and make a list of what needed to be fixed. Sometimes Leon trailed after him, mostly quiet, occasionally offering some input. Sometimes Leon spent hours sitting on the back porch and staring at the overgrown jungle outside. When that happened, Chris let him be, knowing better than to push too much.

So when Chris didn’t see Leon at first, that’s where he knew he’d find him. In silent camaraderie he placed a palm onto Leon’s shoulder, squeezing once before he took a seat next to him on the porch. “It’s not as bad as it seems,” he started conversationally, meeting Leon’s eyes as he turned to look at him. “I’d redo the kitchen and the bathroom, and put in new flooring. Otherwise it’s just… a coat of paint or new windowsills. The little things.”

Leon nodded slowly, even offered a faint smile, and Chris couldn’t help but return it. And there it was. The familiar twist of affection in his heart, amidst all the sadness and pain. For a while he’d thought it had died away, drowned out by all of the guilt and the loss and the heaviness that never seemed to end. He probably should’ve known better. Feelings like that, unrequited or not, didn’t just vanish. 

So to distract himself, Chris quickly spoke up. “I think we should hire someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doing to check the electrics. I don’t want the place to go up in smoke because I messed something up.” As Leon didn’t respond immediately, Chris had the time to repeat what he’d just said in his head. An embarrassed flush rose to his cheeks and he looked away, mumbling a “I mean, _you should_. You should do that.” He couldn’t believe he’d already barreled his way into this, taken the project as his own so much he’d begun to think of this as _their_ thing, not _Leon’s_.

Resolutely Chris stared at his feet until there was a hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly. He looked up, meeting Leon’s eyes with his own. “We should also probably consult an actual plumber,” Leon said, like nothing was wrong, like nothing had happened. Like Chris hadn’t just managed to get his foot in his mouth. And Chris couldn’t help the twist of emotion in his chest.

Leon pulled his hand back, and for a moment they sat there side by side. Then almost hesitantly Leon spoke up again, glancing at Chris from the corner of his eye. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the company, and the help, because I do,” he started, trailing off in the end. He only paused for a second though before he went on. “Don’t you have better things to do? Like. Work things?”

“I’ve been only putting in half a day lately,” Chris explained with a shrug, “I’m training new recruits, mostly. At least it gives me something to do now that I’m… semi-retired.” It still made him uncomfortable to say that out loud, the mere thought of not going after the big bad monsters and the guys who made them was a lot like giving up. He felt like he’d failed, and he hadn’t been able to speak about this yet. Not before now.

“You’re saying it like it’s not an important job,” Leon offered, a little tentatively. “They’re lucky to have you show them the ropes.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Chris sighed. Now that he’d brought it up, it was like he’d opened the floodgates and the feelings came rushing out. “It feels so inadequate compared to really being out there. But ever since Arias I… I can’t.” Although technically a successful mission, it had felt like the absolute last drop. And Leon had been there, so Chris knew he’d understand.

Slowly Leon nodded. There was a long pause, but then he practically blurted out “I’ve been seeing someone lately.” He looked at Chris, and the surprise must’ve been visible on his face as quickly Leon hurried to add, “I mean. Professionally. As in, a therapist.” He sighed, slumping forward tiredly. “I was put on mandatory leave, and I was given no other choice. But it is helping. I think.”

“It’s not something that magically fixes everything overnight,” Chris said, although he knew that they both were well aware of that. He offered Leon an honest smile, and as much as he wanted to pull him in for a hug he resisted the temptation. The moment felt fragile enough, both of them opening up about things they hadn’t said out loud to anyone yet. “But I’m proud of you for going.”

“Thanks,” Leon huffed a little, but there was a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. It fell away though, nothing but vulnerability left when he looked up straight at Chris again. “Going there, and buying this place, it’s like… Like a new beginning?” He sounded unsure of himself, glancing to the side before wetting his lips and going on. “Like I’m letting go, and looking forward.”

“That’s a good thing, Leon. It’s fucking _fantastic_ ,” Chris answered, from the bottom of his heart.

There were tears glimmering in Leon’s eyes as he looked up again. “Why do I feel so damn guilty then?”

This time, Chris didn’t resist the urge to pull Leon in for a hug. He gathered the other man into his arms and pulled him tight against his chest, squeezing maybe a touch _too_ hard. There were no words even adequate to convey what he wanted to say. So he focused on being there, on offering as much silent support as possible. 

Later, they could talk. For now this was enough.

> ## 8.6.2014
> 
> One thing that Piers and Leon had in common was their love for a good steak. Unfortunately their ideas of what actually was a good steak didn’t match. So whenever Claire gathered the whole bunch together for a barbecue, the one constant they could rely on was the two competing over who would get to man the grill and take care of the steaks. 
> 
> As always, there was a playful scuffle for the tongs, as they were both trying to get a proper hold of them to twist them out of the other’s grip. “No, you don’t get to cook them, you’re going to _ruin_ them!” Piers complained, and with one quick tug he managed to get the custody of the tongs, although it almost sent both of them into the ground face first. Nevertheless, his triumph was visible on his face as he grinned toothily. “I win!”
> 
> Wordlessly Leon leaned in and kissed him. 
> 
> It completely took Piers by surprise, his eyes slipping shut on their own as he practically melted into it. He didn’t even notice when Leon plucked the tongs from his slackened grip. When the kiss ended he was still a little dazed, just smiling at Leon a little dreamily. “Yeah no you go ahead.” 
> 
> Of course it took like thirty seconds and he was hovering again, trying to give Leon instructions on how to cook the steaks, with Leon batting his hands away whenever he tried to reach too close. On one hand it was like watching children bicker, and on the other it was unbearably clear just how happy they were. Even when they were in the opposite corners of the yard, it was like they were constantly aware of each other, as if they were orbiting the same center of gravity.
> 
> “They’re ridiculous,” Claire sighed, shaking her head and smiling fondly as she observed the barbecue war. She came to a halt right next to Chris, wordlessly handing him a beer, before finally turning her attention to her brother. “So what’s up with you? You’ve been uncharacteristically silent the whole day.”
> 
> “I’m just tired,” Chris answered nonchalantly, and well, there was a hint of a truth in there. They’d gotten back home from their previous mission less than forty-eight hours ago and he was still so sleep deprived it felt like the first beer had already shot straight into his head. He hadn’t eaten anything yet, and although normally a few beers wouldn’t have been enough to get him drunk he was feeling a little lightheaded now. 
> 
> “Bullshit,” Claire answered without hesitation. “Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to force it out of you?” 
> 
> For a moment Chris stayed silent, watching how Leon made Piers back away from the grill and told him to go take care of the salad if he wanted something to do. Sherry and Jill were lounging in lawn chairs right next to them, immersed in a conversation and blatantly ignoring the bickering steak fanatics. No one was paying the Redfields any attention, and maybe that was what helped Chris make up his mind. Or maybe it was the fact that they were far enough that their conversation couldn’t be eavesdropped on so easily. 
> 
> Or maybe it was the way Leon’s laughter rang in the air and made Chris feel like all air had been punched out of his chest. 
> 
> “I’m…” he shrugged a little. “It’s stupid.” He knew better than to leave it at that, as Claire would definitely torture the information out of him one way or the other. “I’m envious alright.”
> 
> “Envious?” Claire looked at him from wide eyes. “Of… what?” She followed the motion when Chris nodded towards their friends, and for a second she looked at them before it finally dawned on her. “Oh, Chris,” she sighed, reaching out to pat her brother’s arm in what she hoped was a soothing manner. “You’ll get that too, one day. You’ll find someone!”
> 
> “Yeah well,” Chris huffed out petulantly. A part of him wanted to shrug and tell her that sure, he’d find someone, and leave it at that. At least then he wouldn’t have to talk about this any further, let alone spill any of his secrets out to her. But before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself blurting out the words. “I don’t want _someone_. I…”
> 
> “…your heart is set on someone in particular,” Claire filled in. She was still perplexed, looked as if she was using all of her focus to piece the information together in her head. Yet it only took her a few seconds before she realized what he meant, and that probably was a sign that he wasn’t being as discreet as he’d hoped. “ _Leon_?” she hissed, dropping her voice lower as if to make sure that no one else could overhear them. Not that anyone was listening in anyway. “Oh man. I’m sorry.” She studied his expression for a moment, offering a tentative. “You could tell him?”
> 
> Chris rolled his eyes at that. “Look at them,” he nodded a little towards the couple in question. “They’re happy. I’m not going to try to wedge myself between that, I’m not _that_ much of an asshole,” he huffed. “What kind of a homewrecker do you take me for?”
> 
> “Yeah, I know, I didn’t mean it like that,” Claire hurried to explain, “I just figured… Maybe it’d make you feel better if it was out in the open? Talk about your emotions, for once? You’ve been friends for _forever_ , I don’t think it’d be too bad. And maybe it’d help you get over it?”
> 
> “No,” Chris shook his head, “and you’ll keep your mouth shut, too. They’re both my friends, I want them happy. And I can live with that.” He offered her a smile, a little faint and a little forced, but a smile nevertheless. “I’ll get over it. On my own.”
> 
> They both fell silent for a while, watching their friends: the way the two were exchanging goofy smiles and warm looks, how the fleeting touches came so naturally as they finally got the food ready to be served. As much as Chris was aware of his helpless, hopeless crush, he was also genuinely happy for them. So he nudged Claire a little with his elbow. “Seriously, have you _ever_ seen Leon like this, before..?”
> 
> Claire could only give a small noncommittal shrug. She knew very well what kind of walls Leon had built around himself, how he was so eager to help and so willing to like people, but letting someone in, allowing someone truly close was a different thing entirely. It had taken his closest friends years to get to the point they were at now. And seeing him open up like this, all easy, _genuine_ smiles, after all of the things he’d been put through? 
> 
> “I know what you mean,” she said, at length. Then she hooked her arm with his, pressing closer against his side. “Sucks for you, though.” The way she said it was emphatic instead of mocking, and she clearly did feel bad for her brother.
> 
> “It’s okay,” Chris answered, “I’ll live.” 

## 23.5.2017

It was Claire’s idea, to bring everyone over so that they could finally do something about the overgrown garden. It needed several pairs of hands to pull out the weeds and clear out the twigs and rocks and whatever had been gathering dust in the backyard for years. _Let’s make it a party_ , she’d said, _let’s have fun with it_. And she had been so excited about it that Leon hadn’t had the heart to decline. He’d barely nodded, and Claire had already started planning the whole thing. 

What Leon didn’t expect was that Sherry showed up with Jake in tow. 

It was the first time Leon met him after China, and although Jake was nothing but gruffly polite, his mere presence brought back so many memories of the days Leon wanted _so badly_ to forget. Somehow he managed to smile, pretend like nothing was wrong, but as soon as Sherry and Jake joined Claire and Jill out in the back garden he practically fled into the kitchen. 

That was where Chris found him a moment later, leaning against the counter, with his eyes closed as he tried to hold himself together. Wordlessly Chris stepped closer, placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “You okay?”

Leon let out a shaky breath, but straightened anyway, offering Chris a small smile that he knew wasn’t as convincing as he’d hoped it’d be. “It’s just. A lot.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked silently. Carefully he stepped even closer, until he was standing right next to Leon, only a palm’s width between them.

Maybe a part of him would’ve liked to talk it through, to break down crying and bury his face into Chris’ chest for comfort. But he didn’t do it, as he realized that he was actually surprisingly calm. The worst of it had passed as he’d gotten over the initial surprise. “I’m good.” This time when he smiled it was genuine, and he shifted a little so that he could brush his shoulder against Chris’ chest. “But thanks.”

There was clear relief on Chris’ face and he reached out, gently brushing his fingers over Leon’s cheek. Something about his expression was so unbearably soft that Leon didn’t know how to react to it, didn’t know how to read it. All he knew was that his own heart did a little skip, something simmering inside of him that he thought was gone forever. That took him by surprise more than anything, especially as it didn’t fill him with dread and panic and shame, but with something dangerously close to hope.

For a long beat they kept just looking at each other, the moment frozen in time, until finally Chris seemed to realize what he’d done. Quickly he moved his hand and instead stuck his fingers into Leon’s hair, ruffling it in the same way he did to Claire when he really wanted to annoy her. “Then let’s get out there. The others are waiting.” He grinned, as bright and wide as he could, but there was a hint of something forced in it.

Leon followed him, anyway. 

They were almost done clearing the garden, all unanimously agreeing it was time to get some food, when Sherry cornered Leon separate from all the others. She gave him a hug, one of those almost desperate, clingy kind of hugs, that Leon remembered from when she was twelve. She didn’t ask anything, didn’t say anything, and yet managed to convey that she was there for him anyway.

It was Jake’s loud laughter from the next room that pulled them both from their thoughts, and with a small grin Leon arched an eyebrow at Sherry. “So. You and Jake?”

“I don’t know,” she answered with a shrug, “Maybe? It’s complicated.” She turned to look towards the kitchen though, where Jake and Claire were arguing over what to cook, both of them more than a little amused by the whole confrontation at least if their laughter was anything to go by. Sherry’s smile turned a little wistful, and she added after a pause. “I really like him though.”

“Then un-complicate it,” Leon said, giving her a small nudge with his elbow. 

Sherry made a thoughtful little sound, her eyes still trained towards the kitchen, before she seemed to shake herself from her thoughts and looked properly at Leon. “So,” she started, and the tone of her voice alone promised nothing good, “you and _Chris_?”

That now took Leon by surprise, and for a second he just looked at her from wide eyes. “What about me and Chris?” he asked, then, careful as he wasn’t sure what was going on. 

She huffed, shrugging again, but then seemed to make up her mind. “This is just an observation, so I might be wrong, but it’s just… you look at him almost like you looked—” Suddenly she clammed up, obviously swallowing the words she’d been about to say, but it only took her a second to continue anyway. “You look at him different than you look at any of your other friends.”

The first instinct for Leon was to ask her what the hell she meant, to deny everything, to huff and march off and pretend this never happened. Yet that feeling passed as soon as it came. “I don’t…” he started but let it trail off, as he knew that he wouldn’t have been entirely truthful had he said that out loud. 

Sherry reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “I know that emotions are tricky. So I’m not trying to push you into anything. Even if you feel something it’s not like you’re obligated to do anything about it.”

That startled a small huff of a laugh from Leon. “I know, it’s just…” He made a vague gesture with his hand, looking for words and finding none. Hesitantly he tried to come up with something dismissive, something that wouldn’t bare his entire soul out for her. In the end, he did the exact opposite, admitting what he hadn’t even admitted to himself before this. “I think I’m just so lonely that I’m imagining things. He doesn’t…”

“ _Please_ ,” Sherry interrupted, “You’re not imagining anything. _Everyone_ knows he’s harbored feelings for you since forever.”

That was when they were interrupted, as Claire had apparently won the food argument and was grinning triumphantly as she burst into the room, grabbing a hold of Sherry’s arm to drag her along to apparently help with carrying everything outside to the grill. 

Meanwhile Leon mumbled his reply to an empty room, feeling like the ground had just shifted underneath his feet. “Well, not _everyone_ …”

> ## 2.4.2015
> 
> Something stirred Leon awake when he felt like he’d barely gotten any sleep at all. Instinctively he reached out, his hand finding only the pillow, and then he realized that Piers wasn’t snuggled under the blanket like usually, but was sitting upright, clearly awake. 
> 
> Sleepily he shifted, rolling onto his side so that he was facing Piers properly. “What is it?” he asked, words slurred as he wasn’t awake enough yet to have full control over his tongue. “Can’t sleep?” It was a stupid question and even as sleepy as he was he knew that, but he didn’t have anything better to offer before his brain properly woke up. 
> 
> Piers made an affirming sound. With a small huff he settled back down, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just… it’s been over three months and we’ve still not found him. He could be in hiding, or he could be hurt, or he could be…” He didn’t need to say who he was referring to as Leon knew more than well it was Chris. The BSAA had been searching for him ever since he vanished in Edonia, and if Leon had thought he could be useful in any way he would’ve forced himself into the operation, too. 
> 
> But Piers was the one organizing everything, and if Leon would’ve trusted him with his own life, then why not Chris’. Everything in their lives had been put on hold; they had told their realtor to hold off on the house and hadn’t finished the loan applications, as this was something that had to be fixed first. They both needed to know that Chris was safe before they could in good conscience make such big moves in their own lives.
> 
> It was so dark in the room Leon could barely make out Piers’ features and so he rolled onto his back, too, reaching out blindly until he found Piers’ hand and could lace their fingers together. “You’ll find him,” he said softly. “Besides, he’s tough. I’m sure he’s fine.”
> 
> If someone had asked Leon why he was so certain that Chris was alright, he couldn’t have fully explained it. But he had a strong feeling about it, knew somewhere deep down that his friend was alright and that they’d find him. He would’ve called it a hunch, but it was something… more tangible, somehow.
> 
> “Yeah, I guess,” Piers chuckled a little, although it didn’t sound as happy as he probably would’ve liked. He did squeeze Leon’s hand though, clung onto him tight. “You would know,” he added after a while, “if anyone.”
> 
> Leon moved his hand to poke Piers lightly in the side, making him squirm. “You say that like you don’t know him as well as I do,” he said, grinning in the dark. “You’re like the little brother he never had.”
> 
> That drew a laugh from Piers that was almost relieved, at least considerably more genuine than the one from before. A pause followed, one during which they were both lost in thought. Leon was still so tired he was already drifting off, but then Piers spoke up, startling him back awake. “Aren’t you ever scared?” he asked in a whisper. “Anything could happen. It could be you out there, alone. Or me. Either one of us could die tomorrow.”
> 
> “Aren’t you in a happy mood,” Leon sighed a little, but he realized it was no time for jokes. So he let go of Piers’ hand so he could turn towards him again, wrapping an arm around Piers’ waist to pull him in. Piers came willingly, sinking into the embrace as if it was the only thing holding him together right now. 
> 
> “Of course I’m scared,” Leon admitted after a brief pause, slowly stroking Piers’ back as he held him close. “I really believe that Chris is okay but I’m still scared for him. I’m scared of losing any of my friends, or the people I work with.” Hell, he was _terrified_ every time the lives of civilians depended on him. 
> 
> Leon slid his hand into the back of Piers’ head, turning to press a soft kiss to his temple. “I’m scared for you, every time you go out there. And I’m scared of screwing something up and getting myself killed so that I can’t come back home to you.” He felt Piers’ arm tighten around him, and it made him smile as he went on. “Being scared is like my default state half of the time. But you just gotta… power through it.”
> 
> “I know,” Piers mumbled into Leon’s shoulder. “And I will.” After a pause he added, firmly. “And I’ll find Chris.”
> 
> “I know,” Leon said, “I know you will.” And there it was again, that definite feeling that things would turn out alright in the end. Being scared was something he had to deal with more often than not, but it was moments like this that made everything worth it in the end. He could push through the zombie apocalypse time and time again if he at least got to have moments of reprieve in between. 
> 
> “You know, if something happens to me,” Piers started, but he didn’t get any further than that before he was cut off.
> 
> “ _Piers_ ,” Leon huffed, even gave the other man’s shoulder a small push. “Do we really have to talk about this?” He knew that it was a realistic possibility that something could happen to either one of them. That didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it. He’d much rather ignore it instead of acknowledging its existence. It had worked well enough this far.
> 
> But Piers was adamant. And he was so stubborn that if he set out for something, he got it, Leon had learned that already ages ago. “No, let me say this okay?” he pushed himself up so that he could look down at Leon, searching for his eyes in the dark even though it was barely possible to see anything. “I _know_ you. So I want you to _promise me_ that if something happens to me and I won’t make it back alive, one day, you’ll get over it.”
> 
> “Why the fuck would you even s—” 
> 
> “ _Leon_ ,” Piers cut him off, this time. He pressed a finger to Leon’s lips, waiting until he’d obediently shut up and was listening instead of protesting. “I love you. And I want you to be happy.” He slid his hand down to cup Leon’s jaw, and further until his fingertips were brushing against the nape of Leon’s neck. “You _deserve_ to be happy. So please.”
> 
> “Fine,” Leon choked out, his voice cracking a little. “I promise.” He wasn’t entirely certain that he could actually keep that promise, but he didn’t want to talk about this any further, didn’t want to _think_ about this any further, so if making the promise was enough to placate Piers then so be it. 
> 
> Apparently satisfied with the answer, Piers leaned down and kissed Leon. It was unbearably tender, something Leon still wasn’t entirely used to even after over three years. He wasn’t used to being treated with such care, like he was something wonderful, like he… like he really did deserve it. And he couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, sneaking his arms around Piers to hold him close. 
> 
> And as he focused on the closeness, slowly relaxed into it, the fears faded into the back of his mind. 

## 31.12.2017

After Leon had talked with Sherry, he started to notice things, started to look at them in an entirely different light. Nothing really changed between him and Chris, but wherein before he’d thought it was just his own mind latching onto any basic human kindness in its desperate loneliness, he was beginning to now realize that there was much more to it than that. Chris never pushed, never demanded anything from Leon, but there was no mistaking the way he looked at him so unbearably gently. 

And Leon knew that he wasn’t much different.

They were both aware of what was lingering between them, but neither of them was brave enough to make the first move. It was like they were slowly circling each other, waiting for the right moment, for some kind of a sign that it was time to move forward. Months went by, the renovations were completed, but Chris still kept on coming over and they still spent time together whenever they could. 

So when Claire suggested they’d all celebrate New Year’s at Leon’s place, saying that the house needed happy memories so it would start to feel more homely, Leon agreed. Slowly he’d been carving out a space for himself in there, making it more than just a place to inhabit and instead a real home. But it definitely didn’t hurt having his friends around when possible.

Half an hour before midnight Leon found himself outside on the back porch, looking up into the dark night sky and lost in his thoughts. Distantly he heard the door close behind himself, and he didn’t even need to look to know it was Chris. 

Then Chris stopped next to him, bumping his shoulder with his own. “Happy new year, Leon.” 

“Same to you,” Leon smiled, warmth splashing in his chest as he tilted his head and their eyes met. He took a deep breath, shrugging a little before he went on. “It’s been a rough couple of years. Here’s to hoping this one will be better.”

“I hope so,” Chris said. He turned a little to face Leon better, his voice soft as he spoke. “You deserve that.”

Leon didn’t know what to say to that, how to react to the words. There was an echo from the past, a memory that didn’t quite form, but Chris was right there, his smile genuine and warm, obviously speaking straight from his heart. 

More than anything else, Chris was looking at him like he was something _special_ , and he couldn’t resist. Slowly, Leon leaned in closer, watched how Chris let his eyes slip shut in anticipation, and finally connected their mouths in a kiss. It was soft, it was tentative, but as gentle and emotional as it was it only lasted mere seconds. 

Guilt flooded through Leon so intensely he had to break the contact, had to pull back, damn near panicking inside. His heart was hammering in his throat, his palms sweaty and breathing ragged. How the hell could he do this, how could he let go, move on, so easily and so soon, it had barely been two and a half years and he–

Then there was a warm palm on his jaw, a thumb brushing over his cheek, and Leon lost his train of thought. When he looked up Chris was frowning at him, concerned, looking like he wanted to do just about anything to help. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sliding his hands down to Leon’s waist, as if afraid that he might stumble and offering him silent support just in case. 

With great effort Leon met Chris’ eyes, full of worry. And the panic started to recede. Somehow he managed to inhale, fill his lungs once, then twice, until he was breathing steadily again. And as he kept looking at Chris, really looking at him, his heart settled and he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

For the entire course of their relationship, Piers had tried to make Leon see that he deserved nice things for himself. He deserved to be loved, and to love in return. He had pieced Leon’s heart together, and maybe some of the old stitchwork was still there, even after all of this devastation. And it felt like a sacrilege to let all of that go to waste. Why would he deny himself the happiness that Piers had been so adamant he deserved?

Leon allowed himself to smile, and even if it was watery and shaky, at least it was genuine. “Nothing,” he said, voice choked, “nothing’s wrong.” It was only after the words had left his mouth that he realized that he actually meant them. 

So he leaned in and kissed Chris again. The moment their lips touched he felt a warm touch in the nape of his neck, lingering there for a few seconds until it faded. Chris’ hands were still on his hips, there was no way the touch had been him. And although Leon didn’t believe in afterlife, didn’t believe in anything supernatural, he could’ve sworn that it felt like reassurance. Like acceptance. 

Like a blessing. 

Finally the weight lifted off his chest and he smiled into the kiss.

> ## 31.8.2017 
> 
> Sometimes Chris felt absolutely ancient. Once upon a time he used to enjoy having a drink or two with friends, even the busy swarm of people around him and the loud beat of music in his ears. Nights out with his friends had been his favorite thing to do, but now he could barely handle a drink with Claire and Jill at an admittedly quite calm Irish pub down the street. 
> 
> There was music but it wasn’t too loud, so when Jill spoke up Chris easily zeroed in on her. “So what’s up with you?” she asked, arching an unimpressed eyebrow at Chris. She was tapping on the table with her fingers, a tick that she hadn’t had years ago, before… before everything. The stern look in her eyes was the same, though, and for a moment she looked every bit the twenty-two-year-old she’d been when Chris met her. “You’ve been a _real joy_ to be around tonight.”
> 
> Chris shrugged apologetically, leaning back in his seat. “It’s nothing.” Inwardly he cursed himself for making his mood so obvious, as he really wasn’t in the mood to open up about his feelings. Yet then again, if anyone could read him anyway it were Jill and Claire, as the former had been through literal hell with him and the latter had known him her entire life. 
> 
> She frowned, clearly concerned, and even leaned a little closer to him over the table as if to examine him more closely. “Are you okay?” she asked, dropping her voice a little lower. Although it wasn’t like anyone was listening to them, anyway. “I thought you were already feeling better?”
> 
> “I was,” Chris hurried to answer. “I am. I just…” He sighed in deep, and maybe in his heart he had wanted to talk about this after all as he blurted it out all too easily. “I’m the worst friend in the history of _ever_.”
> 
> Of course Claire chose that exact moment to come back with three beers, carefully balancing them in her hands so she could set them down on the table. “Agreed,” she commented with a teasing grin, sliding into the booth to sit next to her brother. She nudged him with her elbow. “But what brought this on? Who have you wronged now?”
> 
> Chris sort of wanted to nudge her right back, or maybe push her off the bench and onto the floor. He refrained from it, though, instead replying before he even realized he was speaking. “Leon.”
> 
> Both of the women frowned at him, and Claire was the one who managed to ask first. “Why? I thought you were spending a lot of time together these days?”
> 
> “We are,” Chris answered. He hated how miserable his voice sounded but hell, he’d been marinating in his own thoughts for way too long and it felt good to finally be in the kind of company where he could talk about anything and not be judged for it. “But that’s not the problem.” And maybe it was the concerned looks they were both giving him, or maybe he just needed too badly to get it all out. Whichever it was, Chris found himself caving in. 
> 
> His voice was so silent it barely carried over the music, a rush of breath with the words slurred together. “I’m still in love with him.”
> 
> That obviously wasn’t news in any way, as both Claire and Jill were just staring at him. “And?” Jill asked after a short pause, clearly unimpressed by his admission. In hindsight, it had possibly been kind of obvious, to anyone who knew to pay attention. “You could just tell him. What’s stopping you?”
> 
> For a second Chris stared at her disbelievingly, as he didn’t even know where to _begin_ telling her all the things that were wrong with that. “Are you serious?” he huffed. “He’s barely getting back on his feet after all of this. And I’m not going to take advantage of his grief.” He’d nurtured his feelings for so long, he could deal with them never being reciprocated. Especially if the alternative was what felt like attacking when Leon was at his most vulnerable, when he was probably barely thinking straight. “I’m not _that shitty_ , thank you very much.”
> 
> Claire nudged one of the beers towards him, giving him a smile that was almost encouraging. “C’mon Chris. It’s not like you’re forcing him to anything if you just tell him how _you_ feel.” She chuckled a little. “You’ve known him for almost as long as I have. Give him some credit.”
> 
> “Still,” Chris insisted. “It’s clear enough that he lost the love of his life, and that does things to a person. Right now he needs a friend more than he needs a desperate suitor.” He grimaced at the words but he didn’t have any better ones to offer, so those would have to do. With a small, defeated sigh he added “Besides, after he already had all that, what do _I_ have to offer.”
> 
> “This might come as a shock to you,” Jill said, and although her tone was firm there was softness in her eyes as he looked at him, “but a person can love more than once. Just because you’re not his first, doesn’t mean that there’s never going to be anything. And honesty is the best policy.”
> 
> “Yeah,” Chris said, only half-convinced. Realistically he knew that he couldn’t force Leon to anything just by sharing his own feelings, and he knew that they had been friends for long enough to talk about pretty much anything. And yet… He wasn’t sure if he was courageous enough to share what he felt with the target of those feelings. So he shrugged a little. “But I don’t… want to be a consolation prize.”
> 
> “You’re not,” Claire said emphatically, so much force behind the words she obviously meant them. “Besides, he’s known you for so long he knows all the infuriating habits you have. He knows what a gigantic pain in the ass you can be. So seriously? If he has feelings for you they’re very well informed. It’s not gonna be some random rebound.”
> 
> A part of Chris wanted to agree, wanted to come clean and tell Leon about how he’d felt for way too long already. Yet another part was scared, terrified that he’d be faced with a polite smile and a gentle rejection, and that things would be forever awkward between them after. The friendship meant too much to him to jeopardize it for anything. 
> 
> “Look, Chris,” Jill said after a moment. “I’m not saying you need to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I’m…” She paused to search for words, giving him a faint but honest smile as she went on. “Life is too short to never take risks, you know that. And this? Might be a risk worth taking.”
> 
> Chris couldn’t do much else but nod. Maybe he could gather his courage one of these days. 

## 1.7.2018

Leon didn’t actually know anything about gardening so he was mostly trailing after Melissa, following her directions, weeding, planting and sowing wherever she told him to. She had a clear plan, and thus far she had managed to turn the empty backyard into an actual garden. When they had started a month ago, there hadn’t been a single flower anywhere, but now it looked like someone had tended the place with love for years.

“I would like to put the forget-me-nots here,” Melissa said, gesturing towards the place she’d picked out for them. It was in perfect slight shade, and directly visible from the porch. She looked down at her hands, twisting them a little, before finally looking up at Leon. “They were his favorite,” she practically whispered. 

Maybe it was the look in her eyes, sort of watery and vulnerable, or maybe it was the waver in her voice. Maybe it was the mere mention of Piers, and the knowledge that it was the anniversary of his death. Whatever it was, Leon could barely swallow down the lump in his own throat as he nodded, aiming for a smile that didn’t turn out as wide as he’d hoped. “Okay.”

This was the first mention of Piers all day, although they had been working on the garden for hours now. Leon had picked up the phone the first thing in the morning, and when he’d heard that Melissa would be alone, her husband on obligatory work related travel, he’d immediately told her he’d appreciate more help in the garden.

She’d accepted so fast her relief had been obvious. 

Although she had seemed calm up until now, suddenly sowing the seeds of the forget-me-nots had her shaking. So as soon as she straightened Leon gently grabbed her hands between his own, hoping that she’d recognize it for the comforting gesture it was meant to be.

Apparently it worked as she managed a smile, took a deep breath, then another, and looked up at Leon again. “You meant so much to him,” she choked out, close to tears. But even through the tears she was smiling, the laughter that escaped her genuine even with how shaken she was. “You should’ve seen him. Every time he as much as _mentioned_ you he just… lit up. And _every day_ I’m grateful that he got to have that. To experience something like that.”

The words left Leon reeling and he found none to answer. There was a heavy weight in his chest, all the possible replies getting tangled up and stuck in his throat, and all he could do was squeeze her hands a little as he tried to keep himself under control. 

Melissa wasn’t done though, and her voice got firmer, steadier, with every single word she spoke. “And now…” She chuckled a little. “I know it might be silly, but when I’m with you I feel closer to him, too. Because I know we both loved him.”

Leon let his eyes fall shut. He hung his head, and didn’t even realize he was speaking before the words were already out. “I still miss him.”

Then Melissa was moving. She pulled her hands from Leon’s grasp and instead stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him tight. “I know,” she said, “I do, too.” She seemed to relax against him as he returned the embrace, and for a long while they stood right there like that, drawing strength from each other. Only when she pulled back again she went on. “Thank you for reaching out to me,” she said, reaching up to pat his cheek softly. “Leon, you are family to us. I hope you know that. You’re like a son to me.”

There was no chance to respond before they were startled by the door, opening and closing with a bang. It was followed by a loud curse, as obviously Chris hadn’t meant to let it fall shut quite so loudly. 

“ _There’s_ my second honorary son.” Melissa grinned, shaking her head a little. Then she stepped back properly, creating space between them, and already started towards the open back door. “Now c’mon, let’s go. You can both help me with dinner.”

And despite the lump in his throat Leon managed to chuckle. “Sure, _mom_.” 

When they got into the kitchen Chris was already unpacking the groceries, and immediately Melissa stepped next to him to give him a quick hug and a pat on the back. “Please tell me you got everything,” she said, then, peeking into the bag that was still sitting untouched on the table.

“I think so?” Chris hazarded a guess, his eyes a little wide. For the past couple of months this had been a common occurrence but it still rattled Chris a little, left him both shaken and intensely pleased. He hadn’t had a mother figure in his life for almost thirty years, and he was still finding his footing in the new situation. 

“Let’s see about that,” Melissa muttered, mostly to herself, and set out to rummage through the grocery bag to take a look. 

Meanwhile, Leon had stepped closer to Chris and now sneaked an arm around his waist, leaning against him in a sort of a sideways embrace. Chris’ arm easily found its way around Leon’s shoulders, squeezing him a little closer. And just like that the tension bled off Leon’s posture, the lingering sadness reined in by the sheer warmth that settled into his heart. 

Sunlight flooded into the kitchen, and he was at peace.

> ## 30.6.2015
> 
> If he was being honest, Piers was beginning to be more than a little fed up with this whole running after Ada through half of the world thing. Of course he wanted her to answer to what she’d done, wanted her to pay for the suffering she’d caused, but at the same time it felt like an endless task. She kept slipping from them time and time again. So when he finally got to aim his gun at her he wasn’t going to ruin this. He would’ve rather taken her in, but he wasn’t going to stop Chris from shooting her, either, if that was what he’d do.
> 
> Only then suddenly there was a flurry of motion in his peripheral vision, someone practically throwing themselves at Chris to disarm him just when he pulled the trigger. The spray of bullets missed the mark entirely, the gun clattering to the floor, and the next thing Chris was struggling with the assailant, both of them trying and failing to get the upper hand. 
> 
> Piers kept his eyes directed towards Ada, trusting that Chris could handle himself. Besides he wasn’t going to let her run away again, not now, not when they’d already caught her. He was aware of it when the fight ended, when both of the men held each other at gunpoint, but it was only when the strange man breathed out a surprised “Chris?” that Piers realized he wasn’t a stranger at all. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Instinctively he turned his head, his heart hammering as he looked at the two pointing their guns at one another. 
> 
> Apparently Chris recognized the voice too, as he only paused for a second. “Leon?” he asked, clearly confused. “What are you doing here?”
> 
> Then there were quick footsteps, a woman Piers certainly didn’t recognize running towards them with her weapon drawn. Somehow that snapped Piers back into reality and he turned back to Ada again, lifting his chin as he stared at her down, making sure she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
> 
> “Put your gun down, Chris,” Leon said, voice level. “She’s a key witness, we need her.”
> 
> There was far less patience from Chris’ side of things as he practically exploded disbelievingly. “A _witness_!? She’s the one who did all this!”
> 
> “No, it wasn’t her!” Leon countered, without hesitation, and he sounded so sure of himself that for the first time Piers wavered a little, his gun tipping down so barely that it wasn’t even really noticeable. 
> 
> So Piers continued to stare at Ada, even as the argument continued, as Chris and Leon kept fighting over what the right course of action would be. She seemed even amused by the exchange, a small smile lingering on her lips, and a part of Piers wanted to just wipe that smirk off her face for good. He didn’t, though, he held back and waited, with bated breath. 
> 
> Only then he realized that the arguing had stopped and that it was silent. Worried, he looked over, but as he glanced back at Ada to make sure she hadn’t moved, he realized what she was up to. All he managed to do was yell “Captain!” and the flash grenade already hit the ground, blinding them all with the bright white light. 
> 
> Piers hadn’t managed to close his eyes on time but he’d turned his head slightly instead of facing the blinding flash straight, so he was the first to recover at least somewhat. “Freeze!” he yelled as he realized Ada was running, but when he fired at her the bright dots were still dancing in his vision and he couldn’t get a proper shot in. “Damn it!” 
> 
> He already made a move to follow her, but all he managed was half a step before Leon’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks. “Piers, wait!” Leon reached out to place a hand onto Chris’ shoulder to stop him from moving, too. “Chris, listen to me. We all want the same thing here. And killing her isn’t the solution.”
> 
> For a long moment Chris looked at Leon, studied his face, but then finally he gave a slow nod. “Alright. We’ll bring her in. Alive.” 
> 
> Leon’s expression softened and he offered his friend a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay. It’s been a crazy few months.” His hand was still on Chris’ shoulder and he gave it a squeeze, the gesture making Chris relax visibly. He remembered at least something, then, as he clearly knew who Leon was.
> 
> Piers breathed a sigh of relief. Now they’d only have to make sure they’d capture Ada again, not let her get away with everything. The next second he startled as suddenly Leon was right in his personal space, so close there was only an inch between their chests. And then he was kissing Piers, fingers brushing against the side of Piers’ neck, and all conscious thoughts vanished.
> 
> When Leon pulled back he was smiling, that private soft smile he had especially for Piers. “Take care of yourself, okay,” he said, voice so low only the two of them heard it. “And look after Chris. He needs you now.” His hand had slid down to Piers’ shoulder and he gave it a squeeze.
> 
> Piers grinned at him, heart alight. “Always.” As short as the encounter had been, he hadn’t even expected to run into Leon here, and now he felt like he could take on the world. 
> 
> There was no time for anything more though, no time for clinging onto the moment like they wanted to. Leon cupped Piers’ jaw in his palm, his thumb brushing over Piers’ cheek, and then he already stepped back and it was time to go. 
> 
> With one last look at Leon, Piers turned to dash off, Chris following right behind him. They had Ada to catch. 

## 26.7.2018

Most days life had slotted into comfortable routines. Chris didn’t go on active missions anymore and it left him with a lot more free time than he’d had in the past twenty years, ever since the mansion incident. Leon still wasn’t cleared to get out there either, as despite all the progress he’d made his superiors considered him too unstable for it. So they spent a lot of time together, learning to navigate the changes now that their friendship had shifted into the territory of romantic relationships. 

Most days Chris spent the day at the BSAA training facilities, training new recruits or helping soldiers hone their skills. He worked well together with Jill, and although everyone took the training seriously they still could have fun with it. 

Most days life was good.

But then there were the nights when Chris woke up shaking, his heart racing as he stared at the ceiling and tried to force the nightmares to fade. The worst of it was that they weren’t even figments of his imagination. They were _memories_. Things that had been burned into his consciousness. 

It was after one of those nights that Chris tried to talk about it to Leon. He was frustrated, annoyed with himself that he couldn’t properly articulate himself, and annoyed with Leon who didn’t seem to understand where he was heading with it. He tried to explain how it wasn’t only regular nightmares but that he was reliving the days he regretted the most in his life. It wasn’t the monsters that haunted him, but the memory of how Piers had looked at him, disappointed and worried. 

And eventually Chris couldn’t take it anymore. “No! You don’t get it!” he burst out, his self control snapping like a straw as he reached his limit. “I treated him like _shit_!” 

The words made Leon pause, his eyes wide and shoulders tense, and Chris used the opportunity to go on and get it all off his chest. “I kept yelling at him, and shoving him around. He tried to call me out on my bullshit and I lashed out, and I…” He paused, searching for words. “I only wanted revenge. I didn’t give a damn what happened to him. Or me, or anyone else.” And if that had changed in the very end? That hadn’t been enough to do anyone any good.

Utterly exhausted, like the weight of the world was suddenly on his shoulders, Chris practically collapsed down onto the couch. He buried his face in his hands, his elbows propped on his thighs, and inhaled as deep as he could. It was shaky, but the second inhalation was easier than the first, and after the third one he felt steady enough to go on. “I treated him like crap, and he still chose to follow me. Still chose to stick by me. And I led him to his death.”

It almost startled him when there was a palm on his shoulder as he hadn’t noticed Leon moving closer. He knew he should’ve shrugged it off, refused the comfort the touch brought him, as he deserved none of it. Yet he was too selfish, too shaken, and so he only reveled in it, drew strength from it. “I will _bitterly_ regret that until the day I die,” he whispered after a while, his voice wavering. 

“Chris,” Leon said, and Chris couldn’t fathom how there was no anger in his voice, how he sounded only… sad. The couch dipped next to Chris and then there was a warm body pressed next to his own, Leon’s arm around him. “You shouldn’t even have been out there, in the state of mind you were in. And still they put you in charge. It’s not on you.”

Chris squeezed his eyes shut tight, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill. They were audible in his voice though, there was no way he could mask that as he spoke. “I should’ve said no. I should’ve stayed away. But I wanted revenge. And I…” 

Suddenly the guilt flooded through Chris and he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t bear the gentle way in which he was being held as he didn’t _deserve_ it and so he pulled back, took a bit of distance between them, even if it was only a few inches. He didn’t look up though, _couldn’t_ look up and meet Leon’s eyes. “I was surrounded by all these people I was supposed to know. People I’d worked with, who were my friends, but I didn’t remember anyone, didn’t recognize a single one of them.”

“But _you_ ,” Chris forced out, “I recognized you, the second you said my name I knew who you were and I knew what I felt for you. I _remembered_ you. And remembering you helped me remember _me_.” It had been the single most important encounter for him, as from then on all the jumbled up memories and scattered parts of his mind had started to piece back together. It still wasn’t all back, even after all this time, but he had what was important. 

Leon still wasn’t saying anything so Chris risked a glance up, and found Leon looking at him, sad and serious, silent as if he was waiting for Chris to go on. So Chris did. “After that I remembered Piers too, really remembered. I started getting a feel for who I was, and I… I don’t know if that is a good thing.” 

“What the hell are you—”

“Leon,” Chris cut him off, and wherein earlier he hadn’t been able to look at Leon now he couldn’t look away, but kept staring into those blue eyes that seemed to look all the way down into his soul. “I. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I’ve been _in love_ with you for… way before you even met Piers.” 

There was a lump in Chris’ throat, making every word a struggle. This was the hardest part for him to admit to, but it had been gnawing at him in the darkest morning hours for too long now. He couldn’t shake the nagging doubt in the back of his skull that told him he had caused this, however unintentionally he had somehow orchestrated everything. “I thought I was happy for you but maybe I…” he forced the words out, devastated, because Leon deserved to know. “I’m _terrified_ that I somehow subconsciously wanted him to die because I—”

“ _Chris_ , stop!” Leon cut in, sternly. There was something akin to anger on his face as Chris looked up, and he already braced to be told off, but instead of that Leon reached out to grab his hands. “That _isn’t_ who you are. I don’t believe that for a second.”

Shocked, Chris looked down at their joined hands, unable to comprehend what was going on. “But—”

“No. I know you,” Leon insisted. He didn’t waver, didn’t sound like he had any doubts, and he barely even blinked as he looked straight at Chris. “I’ve known you for almost twenty years, and you wouldn’t have done that, no matter what. Chris, you’ve always been ready to put your own life on the line for anyone you care about. Including Piers. There’s no way you somehow secretly wanted that to happen.”

“But how can you know that?” Chris asked, voice small. “Why don’t you blame me?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault,” Leon answered simply. “I don’t know what kind of a conspiracy theory you’ve cooked up in your mind but please stop that. I know you did your best to get both of you out of there. But sometimes things just are out of your control.”

Chris drew in a shaky breath and slowly nodded. There was nothing but honesty in Leon’s eyes and he believed him, _he believed_.

This time when Leon pulled him into an embrace, he didn’t resist. Instead he sank right into Leon’s chest, hiding his face into the fabric of his shirt, and allowed the comfort to wash over him.

> ## 28.4.2018
> 
> During the past weeks things had settled into a new normal for them. Chris spent almost all of his free time at Leon’s house, sometimes on the pretense of fixing something or helping out, but more and more often just because he felt like it. They often fell asleep on the couch together, soaking in the human closeness that they were both so starved for. Sometimes they even forgot to put on a movie, too distracted by sharing slow kisses. 
> 
> They had been friends for almost two decades, but this was all so new, so exhilarating, it felt almost unreal at times. Chris had been dreaming of holding Leon like this for longer than he cared to even admit, so having it become reality was mindblowing to say the least. Meanwhile Leon had already written off ever sharing something with another human being again, and he kept wondering how it was so easy, in the end, to slot into this new dynamic with Chris. 
> 
> It never got further than exploring kisses and tentative groping. Until one day, one absolutely regular day that didn’t set itself apart from any other in any way, it was like something snapped. 
> 
> One moment they were in the kitchen, preparing dinner, Leon throwing in an offhanded remark about the instant sauce they were using. The next Chris had him pinned against the kitchen counter, new hunger in the kisses as they were practically devouring each other. 
> 
> In wordless agreement they made their way towards the bedroom, hastily pulling at each other’s clothes, accidentally slamming onto the walls as they tried to get rid of the shirts at least. They spent a good ten minutes leaning against the wall next to the bedroom door just making out, like teenagers, before Chris finally lost his patience and grabbed Leon’s hips to maneuver him into the room, pushing him down as soon as they reached the bed. Leon hit the mattress with a thud, but didn’t have the time for anything else before Chris was crawling over him, kissing him once again, making him lose his train of thought. 
> 
> Somehow it was right then that it hit Leon. They were about to actually do this. 
> 
> When Chris leaned down to kiss him again, Leon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Chris, wait,” he blurted out, his heart skipping nervously as he looked up at the other man. It was only when Chris focused on him and met his eyes that he felt the nervousness dissipating, as that alone was enough to reassure him. Still, he had to get the words out, so he tried to vocalize what was going on in his mind. “I haven’t…” He gestured vaguely between them. “Not since…”
> 
> Even though the statement was more than vague, Chris understood. He pulled back slightly, enough to give Leon some space to breathe but still staying close enough so it didn’t feel like he was offended. For a moment he studied Leon’s face, before meeting his gaze again. “Do you want to?” 
> 
> And Leon knew, without a doubt, that if he’d say ‘no’ there would be no hard feelings, they would get up and go back to their dinner. Somehow that was exactly what he needed to reassure himself that yes, this was what he wanted, and no, he wasn’t having second thoughts. So he smiled, circling his arms around Chris’ neck to pull him back close. “Yeah. I do.”
> 
> Just like that they were kissing again, back where they’d left off. There was still urgency in the way they fumbled to get rid of the rest of their clothes, and by the time Chris finally peeled Leon’s jeans off his long legs it felt like they hadn’t even paused. 
> 
> During the time they had been together, Leon had thought about this, and every time he’d been left with slight unease because he wasn’t sure how it would be. Not that he didn’t trust Chris, because he did. And not that he didn’t want him, because he did. But there really hadn’t been anyone since he’d lost Piers, and it was even longer since he’d been with anyone else. So somewhere in the back of his mind he was worried that he’d freak out in the middle of it, that something would remind him of what used to be, and that it would soil the experience.
> 
> Turned out that he’d worried in vain. When Chris settled between his legs, kissing him breathless, there was nothing else. No one else. Through every touch, every kiss, every movement of their bodies, there was only Chris. And Leon clung on to him, reveled in the sensations and allowed himself to fall. 
> 
> Only afterwards, when they were lying in a heap of limbs and sweaty skin, out of breath and slowly landing back to reality, the thought crossed Leon’s mind briefly. This time there was no guilt to accompany it though, no reproachful thoughts or unease. Absently Leon carded his fingers through the short hair in the back of Chris’ head, enjoying the warmth that was radiating off him. 
> 
> Sluggishly Chris shifted and pressed a soft kiss onto Leon’s collarbone, and that was when something settled in Leon’s heart. “Chris?” He waited for an affirming sound, a sign that Chris was listening to him. When he was certain he had his attention, he went on. “I love you.”
> 
> Immediately Leon felt Chris tense against him, but it only lasted for a second, only for a heartbeat. Then Chris rolled off Leon, instead pulling him close so that they were lying side by side while facing each other, noses almost touching. He was looking at Leon like he was a wonder, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. Like he was torn open by the words. 
> 
> Gently Leon brushed his hand over Chris’ cheek to his neck, holding eye-contact in hopes that his sincerity was clear. “I love you,” he repeated, more certainly, as there was no questioning it anymore. He couldn’t have pinpointed the moment it had happened, but there it was, solid and real.
> 
> Chris melted into a smile, the tense lines of his shoulders relaxing. 

## 1.7.2019

The fourth anniversary of Piers’ death rolled around, and for the first time Leon didn’t wake up in the morning feeling like he should stay in bed all day. There was the familiar distant ache in his heart, Piers lingering in his thoughts more than on an average day, but he got up and went about his routines anyway. Around noon he called Mrs Nivans, and even the phone call left him feeling calm, melancholy but not overwhelmingly so. 

Afterwards Leon didn’t really know what to do. He’d made sure he had the entire day for himself, so unless an actual acute disaster struck he wouldn’t have to go anywhere. For a while he wandered the house aimlessly, until he ended up in the living room, looking through the row of movies on the shelf. Personally, he couldn’t stand zombie movies – he got enough of that in real life – but Dawn of the Dead had been Piers’ favorite. They had watched it once, when they hadn’t been dating for long yet, and Leon had firmly announced he’d never watch it again.

Smiling at the memory of that, Leon grabbed the DVD box. Maybe he could watch it, feel a little closer to Piers today. He still remembered the excited reactions, the way Piers had been gushing about the movie and what a masterpiece it was. So he popped the case open, frowning in confusion as there was a blue velvet pouch inside, along with the disc. Curiously he took the pouch, dipping it upside down to drop its contents onto his hand.

It was like the floor opened up underneath his feet and sent him falling. 

A ring.

There it sat innocently, in the middle of his palm, and he couldn’t even breathe. His legs gave in underneath him and he all but collapsed onto his knees, clutching the ring in his fist and shaking, deep sobs wrecking through him. In a split second he went from the calm melancholy into near hysterics, convulsing with the gasps as he didn’t have what it took to calm down. The worst part was finding it today of all days, like fate was cruelly laughing at him. 

That was where Chris found him, hours later. Wordlessly he sat down next to Leon on the floor, leaned back against the couch, and pulled him close into his chest. By then Leon was too tired to even cry, it was like the tears had washed away every ounce of strength he’d had. Exhausted he sank against Chris, immensely grateful for the support, for the easy acceptance without any explanations. 

Still Leon felt like Chris deserved one, and after he felt that he’d calmed down enough he simply opened his palm, showing Chris the ring. “I found it,” he admitted, voice a broken whisper, hoarse from all of the crying, “from the DVD case. He’d… he was going to…”

“I know,” Chris said softly, hugging Leon a little tighter against his side. “He told me he was going to. But I didn’t know that he never got the chance to.” He sounded truly sad about it, too. “I’m sorry.”

The gentle tone of his voice, the way he was such a solid source of strength at any given moment, had Leon feeling guilty for his breakdown. He hung his head, closed the ring into his fist, and squeezed his eyes shut. “No, _I’m_ sorry,” he said, “I should be… over it by now. None of this is fair towards you.”

Leon wasn’t looking, but the frown was audible in Chris’ voice. “What do you mean?”

“I’m—” Leon hesitated, not sure how to put his feelings into words. They’d been dating for almost a year and a half by now, even though the beginning had been so slow neither one of them really knew where they could say it truly started. It had been long, in any case, and here Leon was crying in Chris’ arms over another man. Over the proposal that never got to happen. Eventually he somehow collected himself, at least enough to be able to speak. “It’s not fair to string you on when I’m _still_ this hung up on a fucking _ghost_.”

“Hey,” Chris sounded almost urgent, and gently he took Leon’s chin between his thumb and index finger to make him turn his head and look at him. “Hey, it’s alright. I miss him too. Every day. I’m not only here for you, but you’re here for me, too.” He smiled a little, leaning in to brush his lips over Leon’s temple. “Tell me, honestly. Do you want me here?”

Leon didn’t even need to think. “Of course I do.”

“Do you…” Chris hesitated a little, but then pushed on, “when you’re with me, do you imagine I’m him?”

“No,” Leon answered, a little confused, but nevertheless sure about his answer. He bit his lower lip, just looking at Chris for a moment, but then went on hesitantly. “I miss him, like a part of me is gone and I’m never going to get it back. But you’re not him, you’re…” He brought his hand up, brushing his fingertips over Chris’ cheek. “You’re an entirely different part of me.”

“Do you love me?”

The question made Leon pause, but not because he wasn’t sure of the answer. It was because of how it was spoken, so soft and undemanding, like Chris still didn’t want to put any pressure on Leon even now. “I do.”

“There you go,” Chris said, as if that explained everything. Maybe to him it did. He looked Leon straight in the eye, making sure he had his full attention before going on firmly. “I know you still love Piers, too. And I’m not threatened by your feelings for him. I know I’m not a replacement, and this?” He paused, gestured between them, a smile already tugging at his lips. “This is _real_.”

Relief washed through Leon so intensely he didn’t know how to handle it for a second. And it wasn’t only relief, either, it was affection and gratitude and sheer, solid _love_. So he nodded. “It is,” he agreed, allowing himself to return the smile, “it is.”

> ## 3.5.2018
> 
> Lost in thought Leon patted his pocket to make sure he had his keys, before pushing the front door shut until it closed with a click of the lock. It was only when he spun around that he realized Chris was right there, a few steps away from him, grinning at him as if he’d been watching for a while. “Hey,” Leon greeted him, unable to hold back a smile. 
> 
> “Hey to yourself,” Chris responded and stepped closer, placing a quick peck in the corner of Leon’s mouth. “I was hoping that we could go out for lunch.” He stepped back a little, to be able to look at the other man properly. “But you’re going somewhere?”
> 
> “Yeah, sorry,” Leon apologized. “I was going to visit Melissa.” It was something that had been happening regularly for a few months now, ever since Leon had visited her and asked for photographs. Sometimes they went out for coffee, sometimes she came by to Leon’s house to help out in the garden, sometimes they chatted on the phone for a few minutes. Usually Leon went to visit her though.
> 
> Only belatedly Leon realized that Chris was looking at him with a frown, and it dawned on him that Chris probably didn’t know who he was talking about. “Uhm. Nivans,” he explained, “Piers’ mom.” Of course Chris had known her – known both of Piers’ parents – for years but he probably wasn’t on a first name basis with them so maybe the suddenness had thrown him off. Tentatively Leon went on. “You could come with me? If you wanted to?”
> 
> Half an hour later they were sitting in the Nivans’ living room, Leon on the couch and Chris on the plush armchair next to it. Wherein Leon was almost like at home, Chris was sitting on the edge of his seat, as if he was afraid he’d stain the furniture or break something just by existing. So Leon reached out, patting Chris’ knee. As small as the gesture was, Chris noticed himself relaxing, the jitters in him evaporating. 
> 
> “I hope you don’t mind tea,” Melissa said as she stepped into the room with a tray, a teapot and three cups on it. “I should’ve checked beforehand if there’s any coffee in the house, but since I don’t drink a lot of it myself…” She let the sentence trail off, shrugging a little. Then she set the tray on the table, filling the cups one by one as she handed them out. Only when she was about to take the first sip of her tea, she froze. “Oh! I forgot the cakes in the kitchen.”
> 
> She didn’t even manage to stand before Chris had set down his cup – it was way too delicate for his big hands, if he was asked – and practically jumped up. “Let me, ma’am! I’ll get it.” Relieved to have something to do besides awkwardly sitting there he flashed Leon a quick smile and patted his shoulder in passing, already making his way towards the kitchen. 
> 
> Leon watched him go with a fond smile. He didn’t even realize that he had spaced out for a second, not before Melissa spoke up and drew his attention to her. “He’s good for you.” Surprised, Leon turned to look at her, to find her smiling at him. “You look…” she hesitated for a second, before settling for “like you’re alive again.”
> 
> Whatever Leon had expected, this wasn’t it. When he’d asked Chris to come with him to visit her, he hadn’t realized she might so easily notice what had been growing between them. He’d just thought it would be nice for Chris to meet her since they did know each other. And right on the heels of surprise came the guilt, the embarrassment, and Leon went white as chalk. His throat felt dry, his voice refusing to co-operate, and he had to swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
> 
> Her eyes flew wide. “What?” Then slowly understanding dawned on her, the surprised expression morphing into a frown as she looked at him. “Oh, honey,” she sighed and reached to set out her tea onto the table. Then he grabbed Leon’s teacup, gently extracting it from his grip, and put it aside as well. “It’s a _good thing_.” She said with emphasis, grabbing his hands in hers. Her grip was tight, grounding, and somehow already enough for Leon to breathe easier.
> 
> “No one’s expecting you to stay lonely forever,” Melissa went on after a brief pause, her voice warm. “No one, and I mean it, _no one_ is blaming you for moving on.” She was still holding on to Leon’s hands with one of her own, but reached the other out to pat his cheek in the most motherly of gestures he’d been subjected to in most of his lifetime. “I’m happy for you,” she added, voice almost a whisper, “and Piers would be, too.”
> 
> Leon’s vision got blurry, but he smiled, an intense wave of sheer relief washing over him. “You think so?” he asked in a whisper, not trusting his voice to work properly.
> 
> “I know so,” Melissa said firmly. The next thing she was already pulling him in, hugging him with all of her strength. 
> 
> Truth to be told, Leon hadn’t even realized he’d subconsciously craved for the acceptance, but now that he had it he felt like a weight had been slid off his shoulders. He leaned his cheek against her head, and noticed that Chris was standing in the doorway, watching the two of them with the softest expression on his face. 
> 
> As their eyes met, Chris smiled a little wider. 

## 5.8.2019

Even though Leon was aware of someone moving in the room it took him quite a while to actually blink his eyes open. He was so pleasantly relaxed and warm, wrapped snugly into the covers, and he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of irritation at how he’d been pulled awake. Nevertheless he shifted, rolling onto his side, and easily spotted Chris. 

Chris was pulling his shirt on, already dressed otherwise, and as he realized Leon was awake he immediately gave him a soft smile. “Don’t get up,” he said, approaching already. As soon as he got close enough he took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to press a chaste kiss onto Leon’s lips. “I’m heading out. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” He brushed his fingers over Leon’s cheek, before pulling the covers over his shoulder better, as if as an afterthought. 

The gesture was so caring that Leon couldn’t help but smile, something constricting in his chest as emotion flooded through him. So he couldn’t stop himself, not before he’d already muttered out a sleepy “Do you really have to go?” It sounded more pleading than he’d aimed for, but he wasn’t really awake enough to care if he seemed desperate. 

“I wish I didn’t,” Chris answered honestly. “But I’ve got a meeting first thing in the morning. It’s one of the companies that funds the BSAA and it’s kind of a big deal. And I don’t have my suit here.” His palm was still resting on Leon’s shoulder, thumb rubbing over his collarbone. “I could come over straight after work though. You want me to grab some takeout?”

“I don’t know,” Leon drawled, still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. With a little effort he managed to sit upright, shivering as that made the covers pool around his waist, exposing his bare torso to the cool air in the room. His attention was on Chris though, and he was smiling softly as he searched Chris’ face with his gaze. “You could just move in here?”

Chris’ eyes widened in surprise, and for a second he only stared at Leon. “But…” he hesitated, “this house, it was… it was _your_ dream. Yours and his. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Chris,” Leon shook his head, chuckling at that. He looked down and grabbed Chris’ hand, slowly lacing their fingers. “This is your home as much as mine. You could never intrude. Please don’t ever think that I don’t want you here.” He looked up again, right into Chris’ eyes, and his smile widened a notch. “Besides, you spend more nights here than in your own apartment anyway. It makes sense.”

“True,” Chris admitted with a laugh. He still took a moment to just look at Leon; he was so overwhelmed by the suggestion that he needed to process it. But then he nodded, several times. “Then _yes_.” And that was all he dared to say, as he was so overwhelmed by emotion that he feared one more word might make him break down in tears. So he reached to brush his fingers into Leon’s hair, pulling him in for a slow kiss. 

Yet the hesitation didn’t pass by Leon unnoticed and it made nervousness twist in his gut. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable living here?” he hazarded a guess. He hadn’t thought about that before he’d thrown the suggestion out there, but now he couldn’t help but go through all the possible issues in his mind. Maybe Chris wouldn’t want to live in the house he hadn’t picked himself, maybe he’d always feel overshadowed by the past here, maybe he’d… There were so many reasons he might not want to move in to this particular house. 

And it twisted Leon’s insides as he didn’t want to leave the place. For the first time since Piers had died Leon actually felt like he belonged somewhere, like he’d grown roots and found a place for himself. Had found _himself_. The house did remind him of Piers, but it was more than that. It was a symbol of his life continuing, of him moving forward, and he didn’t know if he was ready to let go of that.

Then again, with Chris looking at him like this, all earnest and caring, he knew that Chris was worth some sacrifices. “I… we can just—” he struggled a little to get the words out, but then took a deep breath, his voice steady as he continued. “I kind of like having you around,” he said with a smile, “and I don’t need to stay here if that’s what it takes.”

Chris was floored by the offer alone. Not only had Leon asked him to live with him, but he was also showing that he was willing to do it _anywhere_. He was willing to uproot himself from what had become _his home_ in these past couple of years, all for Chris. And Chris knew how huge that was. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said, his voice wavering a little with the way he was still so overcome with the emotions. With all the love he held within. “This place feels like home to me, too. I love the house.” He paused, meeting Leon’s eyes straight, making sure he understood. “And I love you.”

Leon practically fell into Chris, wrapped his arms around him and buried his nose into Chris’ neck. 

It was late, and Chris knew he should be going already, since he still needed his suit and needed to be in the meeting first thing in the morning. But as he held on to Leon he simply couldn’t make himself get up yet. 

Sure Chris had known that what they had built together here was solid, had known that they were happy together. And while he knew there would always be some part of Leon that would miss Piers until the day he died, he was fine with that. He felt welcomed in Leon’s life, felt loved and wanted by him, and that was all that mattered. That and how there was light in Leon’s eyes again, how his smile came easier. 

Somehow this moment, right here, solidified everything for Chris. He truly believed that they’d be alright.

> ## 19.12.2014
> 
> The door to Chris’ office was ajar, and Piers stopped in front of it for a second to gather himself. He’d tried this already three times earlier today but every single time he’d turned away from the door, losing his nerve as he still didn’t know how he would bring up the topic, how he’d ask what he needed to. It was beginning to make him feel so utterly ridiculous that he took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway before he could talk himself out of it. Again. 
> 
> Chris was so lost in thought he didn’t notice he’d gotten company before Piers cleared his throat. Immediately Chris looked up and spotted Piers standing in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged, so he waved his hand a little to indicate that he should come in. “What is it, Piers?” he asked, already turning his eyes down again and back to the papers. This was the biggest mission they’d handled in a while, he couldn’t afford to miss anything vital.
> 
> “Could I have a word, Captain?” Piers asked, carefully closing the door behind himself. He moved closer but stopped a few steps away from the desk, remaining standing with his hands clasped behind his back. He couldn’t believe he was actually nervous about this, but it was all he could do to not fidget anxiously. All he got from Chris was an affirming noise, but he decided it was enough and went on. “It’s about Leon.”
> 
> “Yeah?” Chris asked, but he still didn’t look up, instead flipping the paper in his hands over to continue reading the other side of it.
> 
> Piers would’ve preferred some other setting for this talk, but he’d been procrastinating it for weeks now and he needed to get it over and done with. So without preamble, he blurted out “I know how you feel about him.”
> 
> That immediately made Chris snap to attention. He looked up, eyes wide, straight at Piers. The paper in his hands was forgotten, as were all of the files scattered onto his table, and all he got out was a breathy little “Wha— how?”
> 
> A little embarrassed, Piers shrugged. “Claire told me. She didn’t mean to,” he added the explanation hurriedly, before Chris could jump to any conclusions, “she really didn’t, it was an honest accident. It just slipped out. She feels bad enough about it already.” He grimaced slightly at his own incoherency, but he fell silent as he had an inkling that trying to explain any more would just make it worse. Besides, that wasn’t the point he was trying to make here. 
> 
> “Okay…” Chris brought a hand up to rub his temples. He sighed, but then let his hand fall onto the table again and looked up. “Piers, I’m not going to—”
> 
> “I know,” Piers interrupted, his own nervousness making him antsy. “I know,” he repeated, calmer, “It’s just that… I’m going to ask him to marry me.” He couldn’t hold back his smile at the mere thought of it, his heartbeat picking up in his chest. There were butterflies in his stomach, a whole flock of them, fluttering around in a wild mess of nervousness and affection so intense he didn’t know what to do with it. 
> 
> For a moment Chris just looked at him, studied his expression, but then slowly he spoke. “Why are you telling _me_?”
> 
> “Because I wanted to know you’re okay with it,” Piers answered truthfully. Not only was Chris his Captain, the person he worked the most closely together with. But Chris was also Leon’s best friend and his opinion mattered. 
> 
> Chris huffed a little, a sound between amusement and even exasperation. He shook his head a little, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he met Piers’ eyes straight. “And if I’m not?” he asked, pausing for a beat to let it sink in, but then went on before Piers managed an answer. “You’re going to do it anyway. No matter what I say.”
> 
> “I am,” Piers answered without hesitation, stubbornly lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders, as if he was bracing for a storm. He didn’t know how to explain what he was thinking, words were entirely inadequate to suit the situation. He was going to propose, no matter what, because he was certain not only of his own feelings but also of Leon’s. But at the same time he didn’t want to make things more difficult for Chris than absolutely necessary.
> 
> So, tentatively, he went on. “But if it’s… I’m willing to ask for a transfer. If working with me is something you’d rather not—”
> 
> “Piers,” Chris cut him off. He stood up, set the papers down, and rounded the desk, leaning back against it once he was on the same side as Piers. “First and foremost you’re my _friend_. Both of you. And I want you happy.” He looked honest and open, almost a little vulnerable, but there was no hesitation in the words. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here but trust me, there’s no need.”
> 
> “But I’m—”
> 
> “Go for it. I wish you luck,” Chris said definitively, but the next second a wide grin broke free. “Though it’s not like you need it. We both know he’ll say yes.”
> 
> Relief flooded through Piers and he mirrored the grin, excitement replacing the nervousness. “Yeah,” he managed as a reply, beyond elated that things were working out so well. A part of his mind was already running a million miles an hour, trying to decide on a plan, where and when to pop the question to make the most of it. An almost disbelieving laugh escaped him, just because the joy was too much to be contained. “I’m getting married.”
> 
> Chris shook his head a little, but chuckled as he reached out and clapped Piers’ shoulder firmly. “I know, I know,” he said, “but keep your head in the game. We’re leaving for Edonia tomorrow. You’ve got to be sharp.”
> 
> “Sure, Captain,” Piers replied brightly, “aren’t I always?” 

## 24.12.2019

Somewhere in early December Claire started dropping hints that it would be nice if they could spend Christmas together. And she didn’t only mean herself, Chris and Leon, but insisted that Sherry had no family either, nor did Jake, or Jill for that matter. For the first time ever they had enough room to comfortably spend several nights in the same place for the holidays, and she didn’t need to mention it not-at-all-subtly more than a few times before Leon and Chris relented.

Besides, it might be nice. Sherry and Jake had obviously sorted out – for now – whatever it was between them and they practically moved into the guestroom a few days before Christmas. Claire set up camp in the second spare room, and on the morning of the 24th Jill appeared with an overnight bag. 

Not one of them was exactly a great cook, but Jill was nothing if not efficient so she set out to organize everything for their dinner. She delegated assignments like a pro, but once it got too crowded in the kitchen she started kicking people out. Jake was the first one to go, as he’d been more a hazard for everyone than actually helpful. 

So he wandered into the living room, curiously taking in the place now that he was alone. One of the walls was full of colorful frames, what amounted to probably three dozens of photographs. The first one Jake spotted was one of Sherry and it made him grin and step closer to look through the rest of them. There were several of Claire, and of Jill, some singles and some group shots, some where people were obviously posing and some where they seemed unaware of being photographed.

It took Jake a moment to recognize one of the smiling faces that appeared in several of the pictures. To be fair, he’d only met the man twice, so it was no wonder, he basically only knew him from what Sherry had told him. 

“I mean no disrespect,” he said as he noticed he wasn’t alone, and turned around to face Chris properly. Then he nodded towards the pictures on the wall, arching an eyebrow curiously. “But if Sherry had put up pictures of her dead ex, I’d find it really weird.”

Slowly Chris approached, shrugging a little. He stopped when he was right next to Jake, and took a moment to look at the pictures too. The one Jake had been looking at had Leon and Piers, Leon’s arm thrown over Piers’ shoulders and his face pressed close to the side of Piers’ head. They were both smiling, their eyes closed, and it was like they were in a world of their own, happiness radiating from the single snapshot.

Chris reached out, brushing his fingers over the picture, before turning to look at Jake again. “Maybe it’s weird, I don’t know,” he admitted, but he was smiling, obviously not bothered. “But they shared something special. Something that’s, in my opinion, worth remembering.” There was a sad twist to his mouth, but then the smile was back. “Besides, he was important to me, too. It’s not something I want to forget.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Jake nodded slowly, glancing towards the photographs again. “And I mean. I don’t judge.”

“Better not,” Chris nudged him with his elbow. “C’mon. There’s food.”

The house was quiet when Leon stored the last leftovers into the fridge, before heading upstairs into the bedroom. When he passed the first door he could hear Claire and Jill giggling silently at something, and it made him smile. It was nice to have friends in their space, he thought, and inwardly decided that they should do this more often. 

Chris was sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard, staring intently at the crossword puzzle he was trying to fill. It was so achingly domestic that Leon couldn’t help but grin a little wider. “You are such an old man,” he commented, already pulling his shirt over his head to get ready for bed. He was quick, and soon enough he already crawled closer, settling comfortably under the covers, leaning against Chris with his head resting on Chris’ shoulder. 

Curiously Leon peeked at the crossword, but he had never really been good at those. Chris kept telling him it was the lack of practice, and he kept replying he didn’t even want to practice. “Today was nice,” he said softly, sneaking his cold fingers underneath Chris’ shirt, against his warm side. 

It was a testament to how used to it Chris was by now that he barely even flinched, and didn’t make a single move to pull away. “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, tilting his head enough to brush his nose against Leon’s. “Already planning next year?” 

“Maybe,” Leon answered with a grin. “But c’mon, this one isn’t over yet either. There will be presents in the morning, and if I know those people at all? They won’t be leaving until Sunday, earliest.” Not that he minded, really. If no one had any places to be, then why not spend a few slow days in good company. Absently he kept moving his fingers, drawing slow circles onto Chris’ skin, enjoying the closeness.

“Yeah,” Chris agreed again, his laughter rumbling from his chest, and the sound alone sent a splash of joy through Leon. “You’re probably right. We can kick them out sooner if you get tired of them. Just let me know and I can be the bad guy.” 

The way he offered that so naturally, with such warmth, made Leon fall silent for a second. All he could do was look at Chris, the softest smile on his face. Secretly, bit by bit, happiness had crept back into his heart, making a home within his ribcage. He truly hadn’t thought that he could find it in his heart to love another person this much again, but here he was.

The silence stretched on for a good while, and eventually Chris turned his attention from the crossword and towards Leon. He huffed amusedly, arching an eyebrow. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Leon answered with a small shrug. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Chris’ smile softened and he pursed his lips to kiss Leon’s temple. Then he reached to set the crossword down onto the bedside table, flipping the lamp off, before wriggling until he managed to get properly under the covers. Leon followed his lead, and soon they were lying face to face, smiling at each other. 

“Good night,” Leon whispered, sliding his fingers along Chris’ side to his hip, and just resting his hand there. 

Chris hummed, unceremoniously throwing an arm around Leon to pull him closer. “Good night.” 

Leon closed his eyes, and when he drifted off to sleep he was still smiling.


End file.
